


The First Year Of The Rest Of Our Lives

by drdblack27



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Development, Coming of Age, Domestic Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Heavy Drinking, Homophobia, Humor, I'll add more as things develop, Law School, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Mild Sexual Content, Musical Instruments, Musical References, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Violence, Psychological Trauma, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Romance, Sexuality Crisis, Sirius kisses a lot of girls during this, Slow Burn, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Teacher-Student Relationship, Three Broomsticks, lots of tags, music references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drdblack27/pseuds/drdblack27
Summary: James, Sirius, Remus and Peter share an apartment - their life's pretty common, trying to survive the things on the first year of "real adult life". But things change when Remus finally gets a job, James decides his unrequited love will never really work, Sirius meets a girl that will turn his fuck-boy life completely and Peter discovers things about himself that really shock him. Among many mistakes and some successes, they realize that the transition from adolescence to the early 20s can be painful, but also very fun.
Relationships: Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Original Female Character(s), Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew/Original Character(s), Remus Lupin/Dorcas Meadowes, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Emmeline Vance, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Friends will be friends

**Author's Note:**

> these characters belong to JK Rowling - the story belongs to my fertile imagination. more notes at the end!

**Chapter 1: Friends will be friends**

_When you're in need of love they give you care and attention_   
_Friends will be friends_   
_When you're through with life and all hope is lost_   
_Hold out your hand 'cause friends will be friends_   
_Right till the end_

***

“C’mere.” She whispered, extending a hand to him, and he smiled. He grabbed it, and she led him to an enormous bed, full of petals. Maybe lilies, he thought. She was wearing a red baby-doll that complimented her silky skin so much, combining with her auburn hair and her eyes were greener and shinier than ever.

He kissed her senseless, and she crossed her legs around his waist. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and he blushed when she lowered his pants, aligning. Her moans were low on his ear and so sexy, her face flushed, and she was so god damning tight, so absolutely beautiful, like an angel, and he kissed her again.

She opened her mouth to say something, and he waited for her soft voice calling his name.

All that came was “JAMES, CAN YOU FUCKING TURN THIS SHIT OFF, MOTHERFUCKER?”

James sat down, face flushed and very _hard_ , to the sound of his phone alarm and the grumpy expression of Sirius, already sitting on his bed. He groped on the nightstand, looking for his glasses, and when he finally found them, he managed to look at the phone.

Seven fifteen in the morning.

“Shit.” He mumbled, taking deep breaths. He couldn’t stand up with his lower body that happy, Sirius would call him a pervert, even _he_ being the pervert one. “Sorry, Padfoot.” James apologized, using the childhood nickname.

“For fuck’s sake, mate.” Sirius yawned, his chin length black locks completely messy. “This shit has been ringing for five minutes, at least! I don’t need to be up until noon!”

“Ok, mate, go back to sleep.” James laughed, and when his pants were comfortable again, he put a shirt and got out of the bed.

He quickly entered the shower before Remus woke up, or Peter to use the toilet, and took a cold shower, trying not to remember the dream. He was getting tired of masturbating on the shower because of _her._

After, he went to the kitchen and turned the toaster on, putting two bread slices and looked at the white jar over the sink. No coffee, again.

Remus joined him when the water started to boil, opening the front door to get his newspaper and sitting on the kitchen table. “Morning, Prongs.”

“Moony.” James smiled at him, leaning against the refrigerator, eating the toast. “Anything?”

Remus sighed. He was already looking at the job offers page.

“None. I guess I’ll have to call Gideon and apologize to take the job on the store back.”

“I know you’re going to get something. You’re the smartest of us four.” James tried to raise his friend mood, but Remus only shrugged.

“All of you are employed. I’m the only one giving expenses.”

“Only Peter’s working. I’m an intern and Sirius’…” James said, putting the coffee on the water and waiting. “Well, Sirius isn’t doing shit, he’s just doing what he’s doing to spend his uncle’s money, but whatever. Plus, you don’t give any expenses – you’re our cook and our dad, we wouldn’t last a week without you.”

“You’re saying this since we’re ten.” Remus smiled shyly, flicking the pages of the newspaper.

“It’s true, mate!” James looked over his shoulder. “For real, relax, man. You’ve just graduated, it’s fine you don’t have anything figured out yet. Want some coffee?”

Remus nodded, and the two sat on the kitchen in silence, the first one’s eyes passing quickly by the news and James enjoying the taste of his drink. Coffee was the only thing he knew how to do properly.

The four of them – James, Sirius, Remus and Peter - met each other in a boarding school called Hogwarts, and have become inseparable since then. They were the terror of the school, called The Marauders by their teachers, and after graduation James, Peter and Remus went to the same University - Law, Economics and History respectively – and Sirius received a giant heritage from his uncle, and the four decided moving out their families’ homes to rent an apartment next to the University.

It was their third year living together – James was the only one still on college, his last year, and Peter and Remus had already graduated. Peter was the first one to get a job in a business company, working in an office like a sitcom he liked to watch, and Sirius started working as a bartender. James had got an internship on a city public agency and Remus was working with Gideon, a friend of Sirius, in a music store, but quit when finished his college, expecting to get a job as substitute teacher. It had been five months and no job offer yet.

“I gotta go.” James raised from the chair, putting the coffee mug on the sink and passing a hand through his messy brown hair. “Tell Peter to wash the dishes this time or I’ll punch him.”

“Gotcha.” Remus nodded, frowning while reading something about politics.

James put on polo shirt, beige pants and the neatest sneakers he had, grabbing a coat - during the last year teachers became very strict with dress codes, arguing that it was indispensable for their professional lives, yadda yadda yadda. He left the room; Sirius slept like a rock in his bed.

He got at his first class almost on the bell time. James seated on the same place for the past four years, behind Frank, his first friend outside school, whose hobbies included gardening and judo, and entered a conversation he was having with Amos, a tall blonde guy that played basketball and that had studied with him at Hogwarts too, about the soccer league.

Professor McGonagall, the Family Law teacher, entered the room in her black suit and dropped some books on the table, her severe look always on her face, long gray hair reaching to the waist, and started writing something on the blackboard. The students who were in the corridor started coming inside the classroom, chatting and taking their places.

Then, James spotted her.

Lily Evans, his ultimate crush. The prettiest girl on Earth, with red hair, spectacular green eyes, plumped lips, some freckles on her cheeks, top of their class and a beautiful smile that was always on her face - except when she talked to him.

She was the reason of his wet dreams since the first time he entered the Law department in University, and since that day she treated him coldly. James didn’t know what he did to her – they shared the same options about politics, had great grades, some friends in common, but she _hated_ him.

Besides, she had a boyfriend, Severus Snape - which Sirius liked to call affectionately by Snivellus - a guy that studied with them in Hogwarts, and Remus had the impression Snape told her about the Marauders’ time, when they _casually_ bullied him.

So, he just had a crush on her secretly – only the boys, Frank and Amos knew.

Lily smiled at her friends on the front seats of the class and Frank and Amos waved at her. She waved back, and her happy face suddenly got serious when she spotted James. He did nothing – just stared, like he always did, and passed a hand through his hair. She was _beautiful,_ using a wine trench coat and black stockings, her hair up on a long ponytail, and flushed cheeks.

“Ok, class. Let’s start.” Professor McGonagall said, tapping on the blackboard with a chalk.

Lily looked at him for a second more, and sat down, putting her books and notebooks over the table.

James sighed, opening his backpack. Amos said something about the championship, Frank told him to _fuck off_ and they went silent.

***

Peter entered the living room already with his buttoned blouse and office pants, a cup of coffee and pancakes on a plate, sitting beside Remus on the couch and watching the TV. It was almost nine in the morning.

“Won’t you be late?” Remus asked, concentrated on the cooking show.

“I worked overtime yesterday, so I’ll just come by ten.” He explained. The girl on the show was preparing a grilled steak. “I’m already eating and I’m hungry. Why do you keep watching this stuff?”

“Someone needs to _really_ cook in this house.” Remus smiled, crossing his legs. “James said to wash the dishes or he’ll punch you.”

“Shit.” Peter rolled his eyes, taking a sip of coffee. “Isn’t Sirius’ time to wash?”

“Sirius washed yesterday.” Remus recalled, and Peter snorted.

“What are you doing today?”

Remus looked at his friend. Peter’s hair was long, like a Beatle in mid 60’s, and his small eyes were giving him a comical look, like a child on adult clothes.

“I’ll force Sirius to help me clean the house, then cook lunch, then do some exercising and then try not to kill myself due the failure I am.” He mocked, and Peter kicked him on the shin. “How’s the office?”

“Nancy’s thinking I’m her slave or some shit. I’ll probably work past hours again this week.” Peter said, devouring his pancakes.

“Isn’t Nancy the one with big tits?” Remus asked, remembering what James said one time he stopped by Peter’s office.

“Precisely. But no tits can distract me from the hate I feel due overworking.” Peter laughed.

“It’s always important to keep hating the system.” Remus laughed too. The girl on the show was now putting some baked potatoes with the beef. “And think about the money.”

“It’s what keeps me going, Moony.”

They remained in silence for a while, and Remus sighed, covering his eyes with his hands.

“I think I’ll call Gideon to get the job back.”

“You’re not looking for substitute teacher vacancies?”

“I am. I still delivered some curricula in some schools around here, but I’m starting to lose hope.”

“Don’t, man. I mean, how long has it been since we graduated?”

Remus took his hands out of his eyes, but still looking up. “Five months.”

“It’s not that big deal.” Peter reassured him, putting his plate over the center table. “And I know you’re worrying about money, mate. Stop. Sirius’ covering your part, he’s like a millionaire by now, and he has the bar money. It’s fine, you’re looking for a job in your area and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Remus smiled. Peter always seemed to have the best advices.

“Thanks, Wormtail.”

He tapped his friend on the shoulder and they continued watching the show until nine and a half, when Peter rose and went to work.

He was starting to get used to this routine, after college – three subway’s stations after, he was next the downtown, next to James’ internship. The office was a big company of a betting site, and he was liking it, except when his boss, Nancy, and his supervisor, Jonathan, gave him extra work.

“ _You know, Pete, you’re the younger one, you have plenty of energy to complete the tasks!_ ” Nancy would say with that affected voice, and he would look at her boobs and nod. He needed the money – his parents were spending lots of it with his grandma, and stopped sending anything two years ago, when she was diagnosed with the lung cancer.

That was a factor that made him fight with his folks – the smoking thing.

Not that he smoked cigarette, but all of them minus Sirius had a horrible time when their parents discovered… the _smoking_.

He was a teenager, for fuck sake. Living in a boarding school with another hundreds of boys, of course they would either become gay _or_ delinquents. Some of their friends became both.

His mom was very disappointed when she found the paraphernalia to smoke weed inside his wardrobe, when he spent the Christmas with them, almost three years ago. She dumped everything on the toilet, and Peter almost died of heart attack when he saw many bucks going down the tube. His father punched him, and yelled “ _When the hell did I fail! I was raising a hippie! A stoner!_ ”

But, now he was fine. He got a real, decent job, and was able to sustain his weed habits with Remus and Sirius (James preferred not smoking due the trauma when his mother discovered), paid his bills, was living in a good apartment with his best friends, and was starting to plan getting a car, maybe a used one, but it was better than getting the subway every day.

Peter sat on his cubicle, turning the computer on, and suddenly a figure emerged from the cubicle on his side.

“Morning, Pete!” John Paul, or Jonesy, like people liked to call him, greeted, and Peter smiled. He had a project of an afro and was always smiling.

“What’s up, Jonesy?”

“Nancy said she wants to talk to you.” He smiled, and Peter rolled his eyes.

“I did extra yesterday, she’ll give me more?” He typed his password and the home screen appeared. It was a picture of his parents and their cat, Delilah.

“Just go, mate. Maybe she’ll give you a raise.” Jonesy sat back on his chair, and Peter rose up, laughing.

Nancy’s office seemed be decorated by someone that came from the Victorian Era, like the stupid movies Remus liked to watch. She was there, using a shirt too tight for her chest, and a lot of make-up like always.

“Wanted to see me, Nance?” Peter smiled, knocking on the open door and she nodded, talking with someone on the phone, waving for him to come in.

He sat down on the chair with flowery upholstery and absolutely tacky and waited, looking around to avoid pay much attention to what she was saying, but her voice was higher than normal and she seemed very upset.

“How’s this? There’s absolutely NO ONE who can cover her place?” Nancy asked, face getting redder than the amount of blush she was already wearing. “Why the hell-“ she lowered her voice, looking at Peter, who press his lips, trying not to laugh “why on Earth a seventy-year old woman has stairs on her house? Isn’t that illegal?”

Answer on the other side. Nancy covered her face with her hands, nails always with white polish, and took a deep breath.

“Ok, Lisa.” She said, looking at Peter. “Okay. No. I don’t know any. Just try talking to the other mothers, I’m working.” Answer. “Fine, no, don’t worry, they can’t be without this subject, it’s important for college. Ok. Call me if you have any news.” Answer. “Fine, bye.”

Nancy turned the call off and looked at Peter, a tired smile on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, a little concerned. She never was tired - she was always the energetic one on the office. “If you want to talk about it, of course.”

“Oh, Pete. You know I’m the President of Parents Committee at my son’s school?” Peter denied, and she nodded. “Well, I am. What a stupid idea. Anyway, other mom called me to tell that the History teacher, a seventy-year old woman, fell from the stair of her home, broke her pelvis, and is unable to work, at least until next year.”

Peter widened his eyes when listened the word _History teacher_. He got closer, very interested.

“So, I asked her if the school had any substitutes, and she said no!” Nancy covered her face with a hand again. “And the children cannot be without History classes, it’s extremely important for the school curriculum, for the university! We need a substitute teacher for YESTERDAY!”

Peter tried to contain his excitement. “Well… I think…”

Nancy looked up to him. “Huh?”

“I think I can help you with this problem.” Peter nodded, pressing his lips together and crossing his arms.

“Really?” Nancy raised a well-designed eyebrow. “How?”

“It turns out that a good friend of mine is a History substitute professor, exactly what you're looking for, and he's coincidentally looking for a job right now.” Peter tried to sound as calm as possible, but his voice shook a little with excitement.

Nancy’s face lightened up, and she smiled at him. “What?”

Peter nodded.

“You’re not playing with me, Mr. Pettigrew?” she frowned, as if testing him.

“Am not. I can give you his number, and you can solve this problem in an instant.”

Nancy gave him a paper and a pen, and Peter happily wrote Remus’ telephone and name on it, giving it back to her. She took it, clearly happy, and nodded.

“Remus Lupin, huh? I’m calling him TODAY!” she exclaimed, and Peter grinned. “Thanks, Pete!”

“No problem.” He dismissed it. “What do you wanted to see me for?”

Nancy still looked at the paper, typing Remus’ number on her contact list.

“Oh, Pete, I just wanted to thank you for your extra papers yesterday! You corrected so many wrong calculations, I need to tell Jonathan to give you a raise!”

Peter almost choked on his saliva at that.

“Don’t worry, I’m not giving any extra today, but it’s so delightful to know that such a young man like you is so intelligent! Thank you!”

She dismissed him, and Peter walked back to his cubicle, almost regretting looking at her tits.

***

Sirius woke up with a headache, alarm ringing, and he almost cursed James again, when the he saw has one in the afternoon – James was probably having lunch with Peter somewhere, heading to his internship downtown.

He rose up from the bed and stretched, drinking all the water he kept on his bedside, and went to the bathroom. At the moment he opened the door, he heard some music from Nirvana coming from the living room, and sighed. _Remus must be in a bad mood._

“What do we have today? Depression?” he mocked, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. Remus was mouthing the lyrics of Lithium, putting salt in something inside a pan.

“With chicken, rice and potatoes.” Remus smirked.

“My favorite.” Sirius laughed, getting into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. He took a beer and opened on the table’s corner, taking a long sip.

“Are you hangover?” Remus asked, putting some potatoes and a knife over the sink.

“I’m always hangover, Moony.” He looked at the pan with rice, and the oven’s light was on, meaning the chicken was inside. “Besides, y’know what’s the best remedy to cure a hangover?”

“Aspirin?”

“No. More alcohol.” Sirius winked, making a toast in the air with his bottle of beer.

Remus laughed loud at that, shaking his head negatively. “Congratulations, Padfoot, you’re twenty-two and already an alcoholic.”

“Almost a rock star.” Sirius corrected him, drinking almost all the beer in just one sip.

“Easy, Keith.” Remus scuffed, cutting some potatoes. “Or you’re going to pass out before lunch.”

Sirius shrugged, putting the bottle on the table and going to the living room. Now it was Aneurysm playing, and Remus sang it loud. He looked out the window to the city down them: the day was beautiful, but a little cold, and Sirius really thought about the aspirin.

When James, Remus and Peter got on college, Sirius started going to a bar next to the University with them, called Three Broomsticks. The owner, a voluptuous woman in early-thirties called Rosmerta, was the heterosexual awakening Sirius needed, coming from a boarding school full of testosterone and repressed sexual desire. He swore she was the personification of God, or whatever holy entity, and spent almost every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday on the bar, drinking everything his eighteen-year old liver could handle, trying to convince her to date an almost fifteen-years younger boy.

She didn’t accept, of course, but when Sirius ran away from home after the school graduation and the boys started thinking about getting a place together, she accepted him on the second floor of the bar, and he spent almost one year and half sleeping on a mattress on the floor, right beside beer boxes and several other drinks. He stopped drinking as a condition to be there, and when the boys finally got an apartment, Rosmerta gave birth to her first daughter, and Sirius was ready to take on a first provisional job, that became permanent when she realized how charismatic and committed he could be.

So, when they moved in together, Sirius could finally sleep on a bed, donated by James’ mom, and started working on the Three Broomsticks, getting his first salary and a little dignity.

He worked on the night shift, when the bar only served drinks and snacks, as a bartender, and almost every day came home with the sun rising, as a oppose to James and Remus, that were waking up at the same time. He met Gideon on the bar, and was responsible for Remus’ first job on the Prewetts’ Sound Garden.

Sirius also never in his entire life would imagine he was the one with the talent to get _into girls’ pants_ , like Peter used to say, and dated as much as a rock star did, like he himself liked to compare, giant posters of bands like the Stones, Led Zeppelin, The Who, Aerosmith, Sabbath and Pink Floyd, along with the second-hand guitar kept under the bed in the bedroom he shared with James.

When his uncle Alphard died and left him a huge heritage, Sirius finally returned to the comfortable life he had before running away from home, but decided keep working on the bar, _‘cause is the most responsible thing I have_.

“What about the job offers?” Sirius asked, going back to the kitchen. He needed a smoke, but left his packet on the pocket of his jeans, on the bedroom. “News?”

“No.” Remus sighed, sad. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

“Don’t even think about calling Gideon. He won’t accept you back.” Sirius replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the sink.

“Why not? James said he’s still looking for someone.” Remus paused cutting the potatoes and kneel, looking at the chicken on the oven.

“Because you can’t return to a shitty job when you have so much potential.” Sirius said as it was obvious, and Remus widened his eyes, nodding. Sometimes Padfoot could really speak kind things. “Listen, what are you planning on doing today?”

“After eating, you and I will clean this goddamn place and then I’ll exercise a little, and try finish reading something so I can distract myself from the failure I am.” Remus mocked, and Sirius punched him like Peter did.

“Why do I need to clean the house? Haven’t you cleaned this last week?”

“That’s the disadvantage of living alone, Sirius. You need to clean the place constantly, it won’t get magically cleaned.” Remus sighed. Sirius had always been the lost cause.

“Shit, okay! I’ll clean and I’ll exercise with you, so you stop being such a depressed motherfucker.” He said, yawning. Remus phone ringed on the living room, and Sirius looked over his shoulder. “Want me to grab it?”

“And answer. I’m busy.”

It was an unidentified number. Sirius answered it and put on the speaker, again leaning against the sink and crossing his arms, Remus still cutting the potatoes.

“Hello?” Remus said, and a woman’s voice spoke.

“ _Is this Remus Lupin’s number?_ ”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, ready to mock his friend. “Yes, it’s him.”

“ _Good afternoon, Remus, how are you?_ ” her voice was jovial, and Sirius kicked him on the shin, and raised his shoulders, as if asking _Who is it?_

Remus shook his head, answering _I don’t know._ “Fine, thanks. Who’s speaking?”

“ _My name’s Nancy Hoffmann, our friend Peter Pettigrew gave me your number, he told me you’re a substitute teacher looking for a job?_ ”

Remus almost cut himself with the knife, and Sirius immediately covered his mouth with a hand, suffocating a scream. Remus pointed to the room, mouthing _Turn the music down!_ And Sirius ran to do it, interrupting Kurt Cobain while he sang Heart-Shaped Box.

“Y-yes, I am! Both!” Remus tried to control his voice, but it came a little shaky. “Hi Nancy, Peter always talks so well about you!”

“ _I’m sure he does._ ” Nancy laughed on the other side. Sirius made a gesture, imitating something that would be big breasts, and Remus showed him the middle finger. “ _So, are you a certified teacher?_ ”

“I am, I took the certificate at the last semester of college, I graduated five months ago.”

“ _Great! We really need fresh blood on Ilvermony High School! I’m the President of the Parents Committee and the thing is, our former History teacher broke her pelvis and is unable to give classes until maybe next year – she’s seventy, the poor lady._ ”

Sirius smirked at that.

“Oh, I hope she recovers well and fast.” Remus shrugged, trying to be sympathetic.

“ _I don’t._ ” Nancy cut him, and Remus pressed his lips together and Sirius kneel, covering his mouth. “ _To be fair honest with you, Remus, it was about time for her to retire. So, are you available?_ ”

“Of course!” Remus smiled, and corrected himself. “I mean, yes, I’m free.”

“ _Wonderful! So, I’ll call you tomorrow for your job interview? Tomorrow afternoon, maybe three or four o’clock, is that fine with you?_ ”

“Yes, no problem. I’ll wait for your call.”

“ _Ok, Remus dear, you saved my life! Thank you so much!_ ” Nancy squeaked, and Sirius rose his eyebrows, imagining how hard should be to Peter to work with her.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Nancy.” Remus smirked, turning the oven off, and putting some potatoes on another pan.

“ _Bye, darling!_ ”

“Goodbye!” Remus almost shouted, and Sirius hung up.

The boys looked at each other for two seconds and started screaming, dancing around the kitchen, and Sirius took two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator.

“C’mon Moony, this deserves a toast!” he raised his bottle, but Remus was already drinking it. “Geez, mate, easy!”

“ _Easy_ my ass, Padfoot!” Remus screamed, taking his long hair out of his face. “I’m fucking employed, I’ll drink till I pass out today! Tell James and Peter this!”

Sirius laughed, drinking too. They ate the chicken with rice and potatoes drinking alcohol, a thing that never happened before in the entire apartment life, and Remus even changed the playlist to most cheerful thing he listened, Arctic Monkeys.

They cleaned the house and did exercises like always, and Sirius smiled seeing Remus so happy. His friend was always in a bad mood, low self-esteem, and did a mental note to thank Peter for being the responsible for that mood change.

After both taking a shower, they sat on the couch, and Remus turned on the Xbox to play something, while Sirius rolled a joint. It was past four and a half.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked, taking the case he kept his weed-things and opening it, taking a grinder, some rolling papers and a little pack of filters.

“Incredible.” Remus smirked, eyes on the TV screen. The FIFA logo appeared. “But about to get pissed off with this game.”

“I don’t know why you keep playing it.” He frowned in concentration, hair covering his face, biting his lips while filling the paper with the weed and rolling it.

“You do this more accurately than a neurosurgeon would have” Remus laughed, looking while Sirius licked the paper’s edge and finished rolling, poking the tip and twisting it.

“Girls often say that I have very talented fingers.” Lit, pulled, trapped and blew smoke in spirals, closing his eyes and leaning his head on the couch. “It’s good to see you that cheered. Just for a little change.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Remus mocked, and started playing.

Sirius observed until the joint ended. He raised, looking for his cellphone on the bedroom, and there were a couple messages from a contact called _Nipple piercings._

Sirius smiled. Was the girl he met at the Three Broomsticks the night before, and they kissed while sharing a joint. She was pretty – really tall, like a model, and wavy brown hair, and she send him a picture of her pierced nipples in a way to make him keep her number.

He responded her – she sent an address, and he asked if it was fine to come by now. Then, he called Rosmerta, telling her the good news, and she released him from work that night, saying that they should celebrate. He also called the best _provider_ he knew, a friend of Peter from college, and by five he had weed, a free night and a shag for before Peter and James arrive.

Sirius put some clothes, parfum and picked his keys and wallet, passing through Remus, still playing FIFA.

“Going out and be right back.” He said, shaking the keys, and Remus looked at him for a millisecond before scored a goal.

“Where are you going at this time?” Remus arched an eyebrow.

“Business.” Sirius winked, and Remus laughed, understanding.

“Use protection!” was the last thing Sirius heard before leaving the apartment.

The nipple pierced girl lived six blocks away, on an old building with red brick walls, and he rang her apartment number, looking around. He made another mental note to buy some beers after talking with Peter’s friend, when she appeared at the door, using a Japanese kimono.

“Hi, Six.” She smiled at him, and Sirius smiled back, wandering why the fuck she called him by that hideous petname.

They waited until her apartment door was closed, and he took his leather jacket off, looking around. There was an orange cat looking at him with bright yellow eyes, and he cringed.

“Don’t like cats?” she asked, taking off her Japanese kimono, nothing but black panties underneath.

“Isn’t by chance that my friends call me a dog.” He licked his lips, looking at her, making the girl smile.

There were the nipple piercings.

He extended a hand to her and she grabbed it, kissing him deeply. His right hand went to her hair, pulling a bit and exposing her throat, which Sirius started licking and biting, while his other hand was teasing her nipples, his pants already tight.

“What’s your name? I may had forgotten.” He whispered, biting her earlobe, and she moaned.

“J-Jane.” His left hand lowered, inside her panties.

“Jane.” Sirius repeated, kissing her again.

He didn’t even need to take his clothes off - she did it herself. Jane pushed him into her couch, scaring the orange cat, and sucked him until Sirius rose her, switching places, and ate and fingered until she came, screaming his name. He liked very much when they did that.

Sirius sat back (with protection – Remus raised his friends well) on the couch and Jane sat over his lap, riding him wildly, her long wavy hair like a curtain, while he licked her nipples, leaving love bites all over it. She was quite louder than he expected, and tried not to think about her neighbors having to hear his name three times louder than normal.

They switched positions a lot on the couch, and Sirius even fucked her against the wall, coming with a groan, muffling it on her hair. They took a shower together and he ate her again, covering her mouth – her loud moans suddenly weren’t that sexy anymore.

Sirius was dressing himself when she came with a cup of tea and a joint already rolled, wearing the kimono again.

“Sorry, babe, gotta go.” He kissed her forehead, zipping his pants up.

“Really?” Jane pouted. “I was thinking about a second round.”

“Well, you have my number.” He smirked. The cat was looking at him. “Open the door for me, will you?”

Jane kissed him deeply again, and Sirius almost changed his mind when his phone buzzed. Was the _provider_.

“Gotta go, Jane. Thank you for the lovely afternoon.” he said goodbye, and she smiled, and he thought for an instant that she was really pretty.

Fifteen minutes later, he found Peter’s friend in front of a comic store, smoking a cigarette. Exchanges made, Sirius returned home, entering a convenience store to buy some beers.

“It's seventeen and forty-five cents.” The cashier girl smiled, and Sirius leaned over the counter, seeing she had a Princess Leia tattooed on her forearm.

“So, you’re from the Resistance?”

The girl laughed. “I am. You aren’t?”

He gave her twenty bucks and winked. “I prefer the Dark Side, y’know. Keep the change, Princess.”

Sirius smiled, knowing her eyes were on him while he left the store.

***

James and Peter always got the subway to return home together. It was full as ever.

“Nancy said she’s telling Jonathan to give me a raise.” Peter smiled, holding firmly to the subway bars to avoid been throwed across the crowd.

“Sweet, Wormtail!” James smiled, sitting between an old lady and a business man. “After how long, your talent is being recognized?”

“One year and a half.” Peter smiled, and then frowned. “Shit, I didn't remember it was so long after I joined the company.”

“Soon enough you’re going to be like those old boring guys, investing in stocks and voting on the Conservative Party.” James scoffed, and the business man besides him looked at them – they ignored, holding back laughter.

“Imagine us fifteen years from now: me, a business man, probably bald like my dad, and fatter. You, a successful lawyer, swimming in money.”

“Remus, teaching in some fucking awesome University. Harvard, Oxford.”

Peter nodded. “And Sirius…”

Both stayed in silence for a couple minutes, when James shrugged.

“Well, Sirius will continue fucking more girls than the three of us together.” The old woman looked scandalized at them, and the boys laughed.

They jumped out the subway after fifteen minutes.

“So, she looked at me and seemed pretty pissed off.” James sighed, dodging people while they walked the five blocks from the subway station to home.

“You really think is because of Snivellus?” Peter asked, having to run a little to keep up with James’ steps. “Fuck, Prongs, I know you have gigantic legs, could you wait for me a little?”

“Sorry, Pete.” James slowed down. “I mean, it’s the only reason! I’ve never spoke with her for more than two minutes, on Freshman year.”

“Well, it’s a fair motive.” Peter shrugged.

“What?”

“Well, we fucked Snape up really bad. More than once.”

“More than twenty times.” James smirked, remembering. “But Sirius was the worst.”

“You and Sirius were practically Siamese brothers, mate.” Peter laughed. “You only had to tell Padfoot what to do, and he would destroy the poor bastard.”

“Who needs enemies, when you’ve got a friend like Sirius to punch people like a boxer?” James laughed too, passing his hands through his hair. “I mean, I’m scared one day he gets pissed off with me and, dunno, shave my hair or some shit.”

Peter laughed loudly, attracting looks. “Fuck, mate, he would totally do it. Do you remember when he almost put fire on Snape things?”

James nodded. They were fifteen – Sirius was in a pyrotechnic phase, setting fire to absolutely everything that he could, driving all teachers insane.

One day, he thought it would be really funny to put fire on Snape's bed.

Except that Snape was sleeping on it.

There was a commotion, and James was the one that saved Snape from burning to death on his covers. Sirius almost was expelled, and James’ mother had to intervein – Sirius’ parents weren’t contacted; his mother would have burned _him_.

“I remember Remus was so pissed off he ignored Sirius for five months.” James chuckled.

“You ignored him, too.” Peter rose his eyebrows. James shrugged.

“That motherfucker made me save the only person I’ve ever hated on my entire life.” He said, passing a hand again through his hair. “Yeah, I fucking _saved_ that bastard and Evans hates me! She should be thankful!”

“Thankful for what? That you didn’t let your best friend _and_ guard dog kill a fifteen-year old boy?” Peter scoffed, snorting.

“Or else she would be single.” James explained, and stopped walking. Peter stopped too, frowning. “Shit, she would be single.”

“You should had let Sirius finish the job, Prongs.” Peter joked, and the boys laughed, getting to the building.

Peter pressed the button to their floor on the elevator.

“So, Nancy said she was going to give Remus a call.” He continued a subject from the subway.

“Nice! He’s probably very happy.” James smiled, tapping his pockets looking for his keys.

“When I left this morning, he said he was going to ‘try not to kill himself due the failure he is’” James looked at Peter with worry. “For real, I hope that he at least showered today.”

“I hope he stops talking about killing himself.” James opened the door and imeddiately froze at the scene on their living room, Peter pushing him asking _What the fuck, mate?_

Remus was smoking from the red bong Peter had, and Sirius was putting tequila shots on little glasses, Queen on the speakers, Beeves and Butt-head on the TV, wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

“What the fuck is happening here?” James asked, throwing his backpack and shoes on the floor, and Peter loosened his tie, already smiling.

“My lords!” Sirius smiled, taking his shot of tequila, putting more and giving it to James. “Today, Madam Rosmerta released me from my duties, and I humbly bought a lot of stuff to celebrate our dear Mr. Moony’s employment!”

“Did she call?” Peter asked, rolling his sleeves, wanting more than everything smoke some.

“WORMTAIL!” Remus rose up from the couch, hugging the smaller guy. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I COULD MARRY YOU! I WILL COOK YOU THAT PUMPKIN PIE YOU LIKE!”

Peter tapped his back, smiling and blushing a little. “You’re my friend, mate, of course I would help you!”

James hugged the two, resting his face over Remus arms, his glasses almost falling. “Congratulation, Moony, I told you you were going to find something!”

“GROUP HUG!” a very high Sirius jumped and hugged them, and the four laughed.

Peter sat besides Remus on the couch, and James and Sirius on the floor, James drinking beers while the other three smoked. After what seemed to be 20 minutes, Sirius lay on the floor, and closed his eyes, smiling.

“Padfoot is _dead_.” Peter faked a gun shot with his hand, and the guys laughed loud. “Rest in peace, man.”

“I thank every day for the first person that discovered weed. This is better than pussy.” He murmured, looking at the ceiling, eyes red. “For real. I can assure you.”

“Says WHO!” James smiled, a little drunk. “The motherfucker that puts his dick in everything that has a hole!”

“For real, Prongs. First, weed don’t talk.” He closed his eyes again, feeling the high sensation all over his head. “Second, weed don’t text you every five minutes. Third, weed don’t ask you if you love her. Feelings are expressed with actions, not with words.”

“Shit, man.” Peter looked at him, nodding too. “That’s deep.”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever listened. Anyway, who’s the girl you met today?” Remus asked, eyes heavy.

“I hope you used protection.” James rose an eyebrow, and Sirius laughed lazily.

“I _did_. Father told me to.” He pointed at Remus. “She’s a girl from the Broomsticks. Nipple piercings.”

“You have a _thing_ for piercings, don’t you?” James asked, and Sirius sat down, hair covering his features.

“Good sex, but moaned too loud.” He continued. “And she’s pretty. Janet? Janice? Dunno.”

“Name _one_ girl you ever had sex and really remembers the name.” Remus defied, and Sirius smirked, looking at James.

“That girl from your class. Vance.”

“WHAT?” James spilled the beer on the table, and the guys laughed. “You fucked Emmeline?”

“See, I didn’t know her first name, but was sure about the surname.” Sirius took the bong, lighting the weed. “Yes, I met her in one of your birthdays at the Brooms, fucked her on the deposit.”

Remus and Peter screamed of laughter, and James only blinked.

“She’s nice! Do you have her number?” Sirius blew the smoke in the air. No Quarter from Led Zeppelin started playing. “Holy fuck, I love this song.”

“Unbelievable, man. Unbelievable.” James murmured, going to get another beer. “Wait until Amos discovers that.”

“Amos has the hots for Vance?” Peter asked, head up, swinging to the rhythm of the music.

“Since Freshman year.” James answered.

“Hey, Sirius, since you’re the millionaire, grab us some pizza.” Remus pointed at him, taking a beer James offered.

“What, no ‘ _protein and vegetables_ ’ shit today?” Sirius asked, picking his phone. Remus showed him the middle finger.

Five pizzas later, the clock showed almost two in the morning. James went to his bedroom, absolutely drunk and high by osmosis, and Peter too, eyes not even opening, absolutely high.

Sirius was smoking a cigarette on the living room’s window, and Remus was on the sofa, eating some pizza edges on the boxes.

“Y’know, Moony, sometimes I keep thinking.”

“Beware of that.” Remus scoffed.

“What was the last time you fucked someone?” Sirius blew the smoke on the night air. Remus didn't even bother to look up.

“Really?”

“It’s genuine curiosity.” Sirius grinned. “I mean, now you’re happy, but I’m scared that you’ll continue thinking stupid shit.”

“And you think a girlfriend would help me on my depressive episodes?” Remus smiled languidly.

“It’s scientifically proven that sex produces endorphin and is a natural mood-booster and stress reliever.” Sirius explained didactically, like a teacher would. That made Remus look up. “What? Google it.”

Moony laughed.

“I think I need therapy, not sexual intercourse.”

“But a pretty girl on her knees surely would help.”

Moony laughed again.

“That’s why I like you, Sirius. Sometimes, your capacity of saying stupid things is brilliant.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Sirius did a small reverence. “But for real. You need someone, just to have a little fun with. Then, therapy. Want me to introduce you to Nipple Piercing?”

“That’s how you’re calling her now?” Remus asked, munching a slice of pizza James left behind. “You don’t even care that she maybe likes you?”

“I don’t believe in monogamy.”

“C’mon.” Remus turned to Sirius, and he nodded. “You never wanted to be with just a girl? Only one?”

Sirius thought about it. He really liked a girl once – he remembered her name, of course, Anita, but she was Spanish and they only dated for three months, before she returned to her country when her school exchange ended. When he and Anita were together, he didn’t kiss anyone besides her.

“When I dated Anita. The Spanish, remember?” Remus nodded. “I didn’t go out with anyone besides her at that time.”

Remus shook his head. “Didn’t know that.”

“True.”

They stayed in silence. Remus was very high, higher than he felt in months, and a strange laugh bubbled from his chest.

“Remember Carla? She was the last one.”

Sirius looked at his friend. Carla was Remus’ first girlfriend, when he was on the second year of college. She was really beautiful: dark hair and eyes, a body that would stop the traffic, soft voice and very intelligent. She was two years ahead him, on Psychology Department, but a pretty lame taste in music.

“I was constantly questioning myself when I was with her. My abilities as a lover, as a man, as an intellectual companion. I always thought she was going to exchange me for some of the guys who studied with her.” Remus looked at Sirius. “And she did.”

“Everybody has a Carla in their life.” Sirius sat down on the couch. “Leslie was mine.”

Remus remembered Leslie. She sang in a band – she was twenty-six, Sirius was nineteen. It was absolutely wrong, both knew, but she was the first woman he loved, and she exchanged him for an older man, naturally. Sirius was destroyed after that.

“Do you think you have the hots for older women?” Remus mocked, and Sirius laughed.

“I have the hots for women. Period. Older ones are just a category.” He simply said, putting a shot of tequila on a glass and drinking it. “If Carla was your last one, you should really get laid.”

“Depression kills your dick, mate.” Remus explained, and Sirius grimaced.

“I hope I never get depressed.” He put a shot for Remus, and he drank it. “But y’know, I have a thousand women in my phone. If you need _one_ , even if it’s just to chat, tell me.”

“Only if you fucked a therapist.”

Sirius considerate it. “I think I haven’t.”

When Sirius watch showed three in the morning, Remus rose from the couch, asking if Padfoot was going to sleep. He said he was going to smoke some more.

Remus was so tired and drunk he didn’t even brush his teeth, just dropped himself on the bed on the bedroom he shared with Peter – who was in Morpheus' arms for some time.

He stared at the ceiling. Little light was coming from the city outside the window, cars passing from time to time, Peter snoring lightly. Remus closed his eyes.

 _Please,_ he thought. _Please, make it work._

He fell asleep shortly after.

***

**end of Chapter 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! first of all, thank you for reading until this point. please, let me know what you thought of it in the comments!
> 
> so, I finished college on november (not in the way I wanted - damned covid) and I'm in a kind of "limbo", just like the characters in this, in the exact transition between adolescence and adulthood, and have a great amount of free time, so why not? I've been wanting and thinking about making a longer fic with these characters for some time, already - basically, a big draft of the main points to be addressed has already been done.
> 
> so, a lot of things in this fic will have musics as reference, and many passages and stories I'll use were inspired by my real life, on college and of my friends' life, to get as relatable as possible.
> 
> this first chapter I wanted to show how each Marauder relates to the other and the main aspects of their personalities now, at first, before everything develops: James' ok, but his crush hates him; Remus' a little depressed, Sirius' a charming promiscuous, and Peter's doing great, thank you (this will definetely change as time goes by).
> 
> see you next chapter!


	2. Working for the weekend

**Chapter 2: Working for the weekend**

_Everyone's looking to see if it was you_   
_Everyone wants you to come through_   
_Everyone's hoping it'll all work out_   
_Everyone's waiting they're holding out_

***

James woke up religiously at seven fifteen, his phone ringing loudly, and looked at Sirius, sleeping in a very weird position, audibly snoring – usually his friend would complain about the alarm, but the amount of alcohol from the night before probably knocked him out.

“Never. Again. Drinking. In. Week. Days.” James whispered, pointing at Sirius, who remained impassible. He sat on the bed, putting both hands on his head and massaging his temples, throbbing headache, and sighed.

Getting up was difficult, too – he lost his balance when first tried to get up, not even caring to leave the room in only boxer shorts, and took the longest shower of his life in the dark, since the white lights of the bathroom almost made him pass out.

Back to the bedroom, bumped into the corner table, full of college books and notebooks, cursing loudly, and noticed some clothes on the chair. He put it, hoping that they were his and not Sirius’, and left the house almost at class time, three ham sandwiches packed and one in his mouth, a thermos full of coffee and some Aspirins on his pocket.

College wasn’t far away from their apartment building, but the ten-minute walk seemed like an hour to James, the cold wind from beginning of October waking him a bit and making him less drunk. He tripped on the steps, hating the fact that the Law Department was in the fourth floor, and had to hold the urge to puke as his heart pumped frenetically on his chest, half ham sandwich still on his mouth.

Frank and Amos were outside the class, chatting, and James stopped next to them, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes, still dizzy.

“Fuck, mate, what happened?” Frank asked, putting a hand over James’ shoulder his voice worried.

“Remus got a job.” He explained, putting an Aspirin on his tongue swallowing with the help of coffee. When the two looked at him, they laughed loud, attracting looks from the other students on the corridor.

“Hell yeah! Congratulations to him!” Amos put a hand on James’ shoulder, too. Then, he looked down at him, and hold back a laugh. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

“Yeah man, and your hair… I _know_ you like to keep it like a rat’s nest, but shit!” Frank ruffled his hair, and James slapped his hand, taking a look at himself for the first time.

He was wearing beige pants, a Van Halen shirt under a leather jacket and mismatched shoes - a white Converse on the right foot and his Old Skool Vans on the left - a mix between _his_ and _Sirius’_ clothes.

“Shit!” James hissed, closing the jacket. “I wasn’t paying attention! Fuck, I can’t believe it! How am I supposed to go downtown with _these_ clothes?”

“I think you should ask yourself how are you going to do the presentation at Slughorn’s class using those shoes.” Amos scoffed, and James paled, brown eyes widening.

“Lemme guess, you had a little celebration?” Frank covered his mouth, voice shaking with laughter.

James swallowed the coffee and nodded, still looking down at his shoes. “Sirius had the brilliant idea of mixing beer and tequila he kept on the wardrobe for like, a thousand years.”

Frank and Amos exchanged looks. “Sweet, mate. You need to invite us to this little parties some times.”

“It’s never happening again. I’m fucking hungover, dressed like Sirius possessed me and we have a Criminal Law seminar on the last period! I’m _screwed_.” James took off his glasses, covering his eyes and taking the last bite of the sandwich.

“Oh, don’t worry, Slughorn won’t say shit about your clothing, Minerva definitely would.” Amos reassured him, poking his Converse with his foot. “Are these yours? I’ve never seen you wearing this.”

“They’re not! And that’s not even the worst part, actually.”

“What’s worse than this?” Frank raised an eyebrow, grinning.

“I don’t even like Van Halen.” James opened the jacket (that was Sirius’) and looked at his chest, the enormous silver V and H shining in the corridor light.

The boys laughed again, and James sighed. He would definitely have to stop by the apartment again before going to his internship, just to change those clothes, since he only had important classes that morning and couldn’t do it before the end on the day.

“Well, fuck it, I just hope no one notices it.” He passed a hand on his dark messy locks, taking another sip of coffee.

“You’re about to be disappointed, mate.” Frank whispered, and James went very still.

Lily Evans passed by them, accompanied by Emmeline Vance, on their way to the class entrance. The blondie stopped to greet them – since they were leaning next to the door – and the redhead did the same, an irritated expression when her eyes stopped on James.

“Good morning, guys! Ready for the seminar?” Emmeline asked, smiling. Amos suddenly got very red on the ears, and Frank nodded. Her blue eyes stopped on James, smiling, and he shrugged. “Hey, you look awful, Potter. Everything’s fine?”

“I’m sick.” He lied without hesitation, faking a cough. Frank shook his head negatively, suppressing a smirk.

She looked him from head to toe, and nodded at his mismatched shoes, pointing at his feet, a playful tone on her voice. “Yeah, you surely aren’t ok.”

“Maybe the flu?” he tried to smile, but was sure his face was a grimace, since Frank laugh and tried to disguise it with a cough, too. “See, Frank’s already sick too.”

Emmeline laughed, looking at Lily. The redhead, on the other hand, didn’t find the joke that funny.

“Sick? I don’t think there’s a disease that makes you choose wrong shoes; besides, if you’re really with the flu, you shouldn’t be drinking that much coffee.” Lily interfered, crossing her arms over her chest. She had an irritated look on her face. “You look _hungover_ , not ill, Potter.”

The way his surname was pronounced surprised James – her sweet voice was full of disdain.

He opened his mouth twice before answering her. “I’m not hungover.”

She crooked an eyebrow, completely ignoring him. “What, a shame, partying during week. Is that the kind of professional image you want to convey?”

Amos and Frank restrained laughs, and James just looked at her, throbbing headache again. Lily was very pretty that morning – her auburn hair was down, framing her face and ending almost at her waist, a clip holding her bangs, rosy shiny lips. She had a fancy baby pink sweater on and black pants, low heels, very elegant, and even looking annoyed, her emerald eyes were _hypnotizing_.

In any other day, James would try to be as gentleman as possible, trying to make her laugh or smile, minimal, trying to reverse whatever impression she had.

But in that morning, specifically, he didn’t try.

That day, James had a massive headache, really hungover, and was feeling a little drunk and awful. That day, James had almost no patience to deal with her free hatred, directed at him he didn’t know the hell why.

So, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and just asked, voice calm “Why do you care about my professional image, Evans? You don’t even _talk_ to me.”

Frank and Amos widened their eyes, and Emmeline chuckled, raising her eyebrows.

Lily, on the other side, opened her mouth for a second, and then closed it, her cheeks getting the same color as her hair.

“Idiot.” She murmured, walking fast to the classroom, and Emmeline chuckled again, looking at James, who sighed loudly.

“What happened, mate?” Amos whispered, and James only shook his head, ignoring him and feeling his entire face hot.

“Ouch. That hurt, Potter.” Emmeline scoffed, and he shrugged.

“C’mon, Vance, she’s always saying that kind of stuff to me. I always treat her nicely, I didn’t do anything to deserve that kind of treatment!” James complained, and Frank agreed.

“It’s because she has a _bad_ impression of you. Doing that you’re just reinforce it.” Emmeline explained, looking at Amos and smiling. The blonde guy suddenly straightened his posture, cheeks a little red.

“Again, she never even talked with me for more than a minute, how does she have a bad impression?” James asked.

“Well. We all know why.” Amos shrugged, before Emmeline could say something.

“You know?” she tilted her head a little, confused.

“What’s his name again?” Frank smirked.

Professor Flitwick, the shorty teacher of Constitutional Law, tapped a ruler on the wall, startling the four. “Let’s get inside, my dear students?”

Emmeline entered first, sitting right beside Lily on one of the first desks. The redhead looked at him with contempt for a second, before looking back at her phone.

As the boys took their seats on their usual places, James whispered low enough for no one to hear. “Fucking Snivellus.”

***

Peter woke up all of a sudden, scared by his alarm. The curtains of the window were open, and the sun rays were making stripes on the floor – the sudden clarity making him groan and lay down again with a thud.

He looked at his phone – eight in the morning – and sat back down on the bed, taking a deep breath. Remus slept peacefully on the bed on the other side of the room, still wearing the clothes from the night before – the sight of his most responsible friend absolutely wasted, a small pool of dribble on his pillow, one arm swinging, hand leaning on the floor, made him smile widely.

He took a quick bath, trying to wake up from the hangover, and made his way to the kitchen, finding the sink full of plates and used knifes, the Liverpool soccer team cup dirty on the table and the coffee machine turned on. He looked at the magnet board stuck to the fridge, with the dishwashing scale of the week, and frowned. It was James’ turn to wash the dishes, but everything was a complete chaos.

“When it’s my turn, I’m threatened with violence!” Peter murmured, putting water inside of the cup and putting the rest of bread crumbles on the trash. “I can’t even say I’m going to punch him, he’s at least six inches taller than me!”

He ate some cereal directly from the box, happy that Remus wasn’t up yet. He would listen Moony’s complains about it for at least twenty minutes, and chuckled again when remembered the state his friend was.

It was eight forty-five when Peter took his backpack and finished dressing like _The Man_ , as Sirius used to say. He took another look at Remus – he was audibly snoring this time, his long brown hair covering his face, feet out of bed.

“Hey – hey, Moony.” He poked his ribs, and Remus groaned, changing position to face the ceiling this time, covering his eyes with an arm. “Hey, good luck today, mate. You’re totally gonna get this job.”

Remus didn’t answer. Peter laughed loudly this time, taking his phone and snapping a picture, just for future black mail purposes.

The subway ride was hard - he almost slept past the station he needed to jump out, and cursed under his breath when entered the elevator to the office, feeling suffocated with all that people surrounding him, and remembering he should have taken some Aspirin to help get though his day.

As sat on his cubicle, resting his forehead on the table while waited for the computer to turn on, Jonesy emerged from his, and laughed.

“Hard night? You’re almost late, Pete.”

Peter grumbled. He typed the password without looking and got it wrong.

“Do you have something for headache?” his voice was thick, and Jonesy disappeared, looking for something on his bag. Then, a hand appeared, instead of his face, with a medicine pack.

“Take more than one, you look terrible.”

Peter did, taking a sip of water he left the day before on his table, and Jonesy made a face.

“You need to change the water when you come to the office, y’know.”

“Antibodies.” Peter said between sips. He threw the plastic cup on the trash, missing it, and Jonesy chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I’ve gotta tell you something.”

“What?” Jonesy asked, crossing his arms over the wall that divided their cubicles and resting his chin over them.

“Never let anyone convince you to mix tequila, beer and other things that I’m not allowed to say before ten at night.” Peter pointed a finger to him, narrowed eyes due the office lights.

“Whoa! Didn’t know you’re adept to this kinda things!” Jonesy laughed, looking around. Peter leaned against the chair and typed the correct password. “You… smoke?”

“Tons.” Peter managed to smile, and Jonesy laughed more. “I mean, we’re friends for almost a year, I think I can tell you that.”

“Yeah.” He agreed. “But what happened for you to mix this much stuff?”

Peter explained that Nancy saved Remus life by offering a job and even showed a photo that Sirius snapped of them the night before. James was holding two bottles of beers, a clearly drunk smile on his face, his glasses on a strange angle; Peter’s eyes were barely open, his tie over his shoulders and a lazy smile on his lips; Remus laughing and making a peace sign and Sirius had a joint between his lips, showing the middle finger.

Jonesy nodded, looking up and seemed like imagining that strange group together, getting drunk and high on a Tuesday.

“Well, I’m glad you’re sitting next to the bathroom.” He smiled, and Peter’s head fell backwards, as he took a deep breath to start working.

***

“So, jurists have raised issues about the fundamental rights violations on the Nuremberg trials, since it was a court of exception, without the choice of lawyers by the defendants.” James spoke, hands on his pockets, leaning against the blackboard. He couldn’t change his shoes, so he was doing the presentation with the mismatched ones, feeling ridiculous and tired, facing his classmates. Beside him, Amos, Frank, Marco and Jean, the rest of the group, waited as he finished the topic.

“According to some legal scholars, an exceptional court couldn’t punish with capital punishments, only with prisons, among other forms of accountability.” He continued, looking at the corner of his vision at Professor Slughorn, the Criminal Law teacher, who had crossed arms and was sat on one of the unused desks. His head still hurt, his voice was a little weird and he was trembling due the amount of caffeine he ingested, and frowned, trying to concentrate himself on the matter. “In Nuremberg, however, the winners dictated the rules of the functioning of the court, in a clear detriment of the defendants’ fundamental rights, violating the principle of natural judgment positivized for the first time in the Magna Carta of 1215.”

James paused for a moment, taking a breath discreetly and trying to remember the rest of the things he wrote on his notebook to the presentation. His eyes stopped on Lily – she had crossed arms and legs, an unimpressed expression, and he swallowed hard, a little disturbed by the look on her face.

“Some critics of the Nuremberg trials argue that the charges against the defendants were only defined as crimes after they were committed, and saw the trail as a form of doing ‘victor’s justice’. Some may even say that was a hypocrisy of the Allied nations, including violations of the Geneva Convention.” James looked quickly at Amos, who nodded, and sighed. He really wanted to sit – luckily, he liked International Law and Criminal Law, so the subject was quite interesting for him. “Soviet leaders, for example, weren’t tried for their part in the German-Soviet Non-Aggression Part, not even the Britain and Soviet Union were tried due the Anglo-Soviet invasion of Iran in 1941, and the Winter War of 1939 to 1940. The United States didn’t held responsibility for the atomic bombs threw over Hiroshima and Nagasaki, nor even the Allies for the bombing over German cities.”

He looked down at his shoes, as finished the presentation. “The Nuremberg trials had a great influence on the development of international criminal law, serving as models for the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and The Convention on the Abolition of the Statute of Limitations on War Crimes and Crimes against Humanity, just to say some. The influence of the tribunal can also be seen in the proposals for a permanent international criminal court, and the drafting of international criminal codes, later prepared by the International Law Commission.” He looked up again, smiling humorlessly. “Thank you for your attention.”

The class clapped, and the boys did a little reverence, looking at Professor Slughorn, who rose from his sit, clapping a little too. Frank and Amos exchanged smiles, but James only repressed a yawn.

“Impressive, boys, impressive.” Slughorn said as the clapping ended. He crossed his arms again, taking a look at the five in front of him. “So, do you have any personal conclusions that you would like to share with us?”

Jean, a tall guy with light brown hair in a mullet and a five-o-clock shadow, shrugged. “The Nuremberg trials were indeed grounded in particular issues, so to speak. There’s no doubt that those crimes against humanity were committed, but the way they were prosecuted was somewhat…” he looked at Marco, with dark black hair, green eyes and heavily freckled face, on his right side.

“Dubious.” He completed the sentence.

Slughorn nodded, looking attentively to his students. Amos and Frank smiled politely, waiting for another question, but the Professor’s attention was dragged to James, whose head was down, eyes closed. Inevitably, he noticed the sneakers.

“Potter?” he called, and James rose his head, eyebrows up. The old man indicated his feet with a head movement. “A little distracted today, are we?”

The class laughed. James fought the urge to roll his eyes – Professor Slughorn didn’t like him very much, even if he had one of the highest grades in that class, and just like his favorite student – a certain redhead – he liked to throw acidic words without reason.

Prongs looked at Lily again. She was smirking smugly, her green eyes flashing, swinging leg quickly. Her body language easily was telling that she was finding the _embarrassing-James-Potter-situation_ amazing.

“Hard day, sir.” James answered, forcing a smile. Slughorn rose his eyebrows, ironically, and nodded.

“I’m afraid I’m about to worsen it.” His voice was carried on excitement, and James pursed his lips. Frank looked down, eyes widened, waiting for the question. “Could you tell me two fundamental principles, in addition to what you already mentioned, that were allegedly violated in the Nuremberg trials?”

Amos looked at him discreetly, pretending a neck crack, but James was busy looking at Lily, who leaned a little, getting closer to Emmeline on her left side, and whispering _He won’t answer it, of course he doesn’t know._

He felt a feeling of injustice, his neck getting warmer, and straightened his posture before looking at Slughorn eyes.

“Prohibition of _ex post facto_ laws and the general principle of penal law _nullum crimen, nulla poena sine praevia lege poenali_.”

It was really hard to suppress the smirk when Slughorn tilted his head, clearly surprised that he actually _knew_ the answer, and looked directly at Lily, arching a brow at her. The redhead sat back properly on her seat, Emmeline chuckling, and crossed her arms.

“Well, Potter, I have to say that I’m genuinely surprised you could manage all this presentation using such poor choices of clothing.” Slughorn disdained, and James exchanged a tired look with Frank, behind Amos, who just looked down at his friends’ shoes again. “And I must advise you about your posture. Making a speak while leaning against the blackboard with hands on your pocket isn’t the most professional thing in the world.”

 _Is that the kind of professional image you want to convey_ , he remembered Lily’s voice. That made him blush a little, half from embarrassment, half from anger.

“Sorry, sir.” He spoke low. Slughorn shook his head.

“But, as always, you got the full grade on the topic. Congratulations – I still don’t know how you manage to be on top of the class, being like… _that_.”

The _that_ was pronounced with much disdain as possible. Amos looked scandalized at the Professor, and Marco, Jean and Frank frowned.

James, on the other hand, did nothing.

Again, he was too hungover and tired to even speak something – and wasn’t as something would change the fact that _yes,_ he was on top of the class, and _yes,_ nor Slughorn not Lily Evans liked him.

The class was dismissed shortly after, and James gladly took his bag and books, walking with Amos and Frank to the university courtyard as another morning came to end. Marco and Jean approached them as they made their ways down the steps.

“Man, I still don’t know how you manage to stay quiet when Slughorn says those shit to you. I mean, what the fuck!” Jean complained, revolted.

“Yeah, I mean, you totally did it, you didn’t even stutter, and that old fucker still found something to complain about.” Frank shook his head negatively as they reached the first floor. Looking at Amos, he continued “And _you_ said he wouldn’t say shit about the clothes.”

“It's very unprofessional of his to show favoritism.” Marco pondered, dodging some students as they made their way to the University gates. “He always does that to us, and even some other people, not making any effort to hide that the apple of his eye is Evans.”

“I don’t know what I did to him, or to her. Honestly, I don’t give a shit.” James shrugged, looking at the people that passed by the group. “Just being on the top of his class is enough for me because that pisses him off, clearly.”

“Maybe you messed with _his_ boyfriend, too?” Amos elbowed James playfully, and he managed to truly smile for the first time.

***

Sirius took a sip of his first beer of the day – _breakfast_ \- as the clock on the living room wall showed five past eleven in the morning, lying down on the couch with his head rested against one of the sofa arms, wearing an old Black Sabbath shirt and boxers. The TV was on a Halloween themed cooking show – he hated it, but the remote was too far away, and he was very comfortable, thank you.

The beer ended just as an old lady won the cakes’ battle, and Sirius considered getting another beer, just to avoid hangover, making his way to the kitchen during the commercials, when noticed the dirty dishes, taking a look at the scale Remus’ made. He smirked when read the name _James_ under _Wednesday._

“That bitch!” Sirius laughed, walked quickly to his bedroom, taking his phone and snapping a picture of the sink. “He’ll say I’m lying if I say he didn't wash the dishes in the morning.” He murmured, opening the bottle, when heard the front door opening, arching a brow.

Putting only his head out of the kitchen doorframe, he frowned when saw a very tired Prongs took of his sneakers – and laughed loudly when noticed they were different.

“The 80’s called, they want the clothes back.” Sirius opened the beer and took a sip, entering the living room again. James rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“Those are _yours_ , asshole.” He threw the leather jacket to Sirius, who grabbed it on air, and started taking the Van Halen shirt off. “Why your clothes were at my chair?”

“Those are my clothes, minus these horrible pants. I mean, c’mon, who uses this color?” he pointed at the beige pants. ”And what do you mean, _your_ chair?” Sirius grabbed the shirt James threw in his face. “It’s _our_ chair, there’s only one desk!”

“I wasn’t able to dress normally since you got me absolutely wasted last night.” James replied, going to their bedroom. “And had to presenter a seminary today wearing a fucking Van Halen shirt. I don’t even like Van Halen!”

“The fuck, Prongs?” Sirius asked, following him. “You don’t like Van Halen?”

“No, of course not! I don’t like ‘dad’s music’!” he scoffed, opening the wardrobe, searching for a presentable shirt.

“ _Dad’s_ _music_? Hold on, this is a serious offense to me.” Sirius pointed at James with the hand that grabbed the beer. “It’s a fucking _classic._ Eddie Van Halen was one of the best guitarists in the world.” James exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, and Sirius saw it on the mirror. “Better than that rap bullshit you listen to.”

James smirked, buttoning up a blue shirt while taking a look at his reflection. It suited the beige pants well, and he kneeled, searching for the right foot of the Vans – under his bed it was.

“So you came back home just to change?” Sirius asked, leaning against the doorframe as James tied his shoes.

“Yeah, I was afraid someone asked me what was my favorite song from Van Halen and I would have to answer _Just a Gigolo._ ” James smirked.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Sirius rose his arms over his head, and James couldn’t avoid laughing loud. “That’s a David Lee Roth’s song, c’mon! Do you think Eddie would let the band do some shit like that?”

“Mom loves him.” James recalled, raising up and passing by Sirius on the door, making his way to the kitchen – Padfoot followed him.

“Mom thinks Michael Bublé is the hottest guy in the world, doesn't serve as a parameter!” he spoke, incredulously, and the fact that he addressed James’ mom as _Mom_ too made the boy smile.

Sirius was like a brother to him - a little more than Remus and Peter. He was his first friend on Hogwarts, when they were just eleven years old, and was present in all good and bad memories, practically every moment of James’ life. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter welcomed Sirius when he ran away from home, just before school ended, and took on the care that only real parents could after the Black family emancipated him, at the same time he received the inheritance from his uncle Alphard.

Thinking about Euphemia made James miss home a bit. Was incredible living “alone”, with his best friends of life, at a nice apartment, not having to hear anyone dictating bedtime, eating time, nor receive orders (although Remus surely was in charge) - he couldn’t imagine a life living under his parents’ roof with Sirius and him being able to drink beers before lunch.

But at the same time, James missed the advantages of living with parents: clean clothes, clean dishes, nice food and his mom’s hugs, or chatting with his father. He wondered if Sirius missed it, too.

“By the way, you didn’t wash the dishes.” Sirius indicated the sink with a head movement, his dark hair covering his eyes a bit. James widened eyes, taken aback.

“What the fuck?” he turned on the tap, putting detergent on sponge and started washing his used cup from early morning. “This is _your_ fault, too, Padfoot. If I wasn’t fucking wasted this morning, I would never leave the kitchen like this, you know that.”

“I took a photo, just in case.” Sirius smirked, and James laughed at that. “Mister clean-dishes isn’t as clean as he brags!”

James was about to answer something when he noticed the beer on Padfoot’s hand, and arched a brown.

“Pads, why are you drinking? It’s like, eleven in the fucking morning.” He asked as if was obvious, but Sirius only shrugged.

“Do you know what’s the best remedy to cure a hangover?” he asked back, repeating what he said to Remus just the day before.

James laughed, predicting some idiocy was coming. “Aspirin?”

“More alcohol.” He took a sip of the beer, and shook his head while swallowing. “Y’know, Moony said the same thing yesterday.”

“I would be surprised if he didn’t.” James said while washing his Liverpool mug. “And besides drinking your ass off, what else do you do on afternoons? It’s not like we bump into each other during the day that much.”

“I’ll wait Moony wake up, eat something, and watch Matrix trilogy I downloaded last week. I really need to see the last movie.” Sirius said, passing a hand through his hair.

“No booty calls?” James arched an eyebrow, and Sirius laughed loud.

“What the fuck? Booty call _?_ Do you mean my _female_ _friends_?” his voice was sweet, almost innocent, and James laughed.

“Whatever you wanna call them, Romeo.” he dried his hands on the towel over the stove. “I’m going downtown. Please, wake Remus up. He needs to be fine before the interview, and you drunk-ass is the only one who can help him with it.”

“Gotcha’, cap.” Sirius winked, and James punched him on the arm while passing though the door. “How was that whatever-presentation you had today?”

“Hm?” James asked, taking the backpack from the over door hooks. “Oh, my seminary. Fine, I got maximum.”

“Wouldn’t expect less from you, Prongs. Sweet.” Sirius raised his bottle as a toast. “That wrinkly Professor’s class?”

“Yeah. I answered a question straight and had the guts to wonder how I’m at the top of the class, besides making fun of my clothes.” James remembered Slughorn face, voice carried with disdain.

“What? That limp-dick old asshole!” Sirius cursed, and the originality of it made James laugh loud; the sound of his laugh made Sirius smile. “Maybe you’re in the top of the class because you work your ass off for it? Not because you’re fucking some old dipshit like him, the way Evans is.”

“Watch it.” James pointed at Sirius, trying to sound annoyed, but still laughing. “Marco said she’s the apple of his eye, this is the correct way to talk about a girl, Pads. And you know what I did to her, today?”

Sirius grey eyes widened as James told him about the _unprofessional image_ and his answer – probably seemed like nothing to any person, but for James was a huge change of mood.

Since the first time he put his eyes on Lily Evans, James treated her like a princess – he would try to please her, be nice, polite, talk about politics and important stuff, trying to show her that he wasn’t stupid or lazy as she probably thought he was - no effect, all in vain. She continued treating him like he had a contagious disease, or like a bug that pissed her off.

“Well done, Prongs!” Sirius cheered, tapping James on the shoulder. He didn’t look very happy about it, in the other hand. “I really don’t know what you saw on her – I mean, those _glorious_ mouth of hers? Sucks Snivellus dick.”

“Oh, fuck you, mate!” James pushed him lightly, laughing. “I’ll never want to kiss her if you keep reminding me this!”

“I’m your brother, it’s my job to warn you about _mouths-that-suck-Snivellus’-cock_.” Sirius said solemnly, raising a hand like swearing in the court. “I have a trillion girls on my phone, if you need a redhead – and I _know_ you have a thing for redheads – I’ll introduce you some.”

“No, Pads, I’m fine being rejected by only one girl, thanks.” James said, opening the door to leave.

“Oh, for God’s fucking sake, I can’t believe two of my best friends are low self-esteem motherfuckers!” Sirius shook his head negatively.

“Don’t forget to wake up the other one.” James reminded him, smiling. “Later.”

“Later.” Sirius smirked, taking a sip of the beer.

He lay down on down on the couch, getting the remote and putting in a music channel, just to change it again three songs later, mumbling something about _today’s awful taste_ – shortly after Sirius fell asleep, almost empty bottle of beer balanced over his knee.

It was almost noon when Remus woke up, panicking and fearing he would miss the job interview, and ran to the bathroom, inducing vomit, so he wouldn’t feel the urge to do that later. That woke up Sirius, and he hold Remus’ hair while he threw up every last bit he ingested the past night.

“I think you should cut it.” Sirius said, looking up.

“What?” Remus asked, and Sirius pulled his hair lightly. “I never said to cut _your_ s.” His voice was rough, and threw up a little more.

“Not the one with a college degree.” Sirius pointed at himself.

He always had long hair – when they graduated, it reached his shoulders, and he started cutting it a little, but always leaving it longer than the rest of the boys. Remus, however, had overtaken him in the past year, letting his brown locks past his shoulders, and not caring about it enough to take care.

Remus threw up a little more. “I don’t have time to cut it.”

“Not now, genius. You should at least shave, take a real bath – like, using my hair products over there – and put some parfum on, I can lend you one.”

Remus coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Wanna dress me, too?”

“No, you have the ‘responsible adult’ clothes.”

Remus sat on the bathroom floor, flushing, and took a bit of toilet paper to clean the sweat of his face.

“Now, what?” Sirius leaned against the doorframe.

“Do something for me, Padfoot, and grab us some food.” Remus said, feeling his throat sore.

“Like, what? Healthy things like you cook us?” Sirius looked at himself on the mirror and smiled at his reflection.

“Nah, some McDonald’s or shit like this.” Remus sighed, getting up and taking his shirt off. “Bring my phone here, I’ll take a bath to stop feeling like a piece of trash.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, putting the phone over the toilet lid. “You’re about to get employed, Ian Curtis, stop fucking whining.”

Remus turned on the shower, after checking the hours, and did like Sirius said: used his shampoo and conditioner, and by the way they smelled, were really expensive ones, shaved and put some parfum, the first he found on Padfoot and Prongs’ wardrobe, and finally looked at himself on the mirror, for the first time in a long time – there were some things he would rather not see.

Remus had little dark circles under his eyes, a tired expression, and bit paler skin that the normal, clearly needing sunlight, and still felt like a waste of space. He sighed and turned away from it quickly, before his eyes lowered and analyzed the rest of his face. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m a little depressed.”

It was almost three in the afternoon when Nancy called; Remus and Sirius were finishing eating on the kitchen, listening to Sirius’ disco playlist (“ _70’s, baby_ ”). He almost tripped on the carpet on the living room to get the phone, and ignored Padfoot’s laugh on the other room.

“Hello?” he tried sounding peaceful and calm.

“ _Hi! Remus, darling, it’s Nancy! How are you?_ ” she was squeaking again.

“Fine, thanks, you?” he cracked his knuckles, nervous, foot tapping the floor repeatedly.

“ _Wonderful, thanks to you!”_ Remus smiled, rolling his eyes. _“So, are you free this afternoon? How about that job interview at three and a half?_ ”

“I’m free, yes, no problems!”

“ _Great! So, do you know where’s Ilvermorny?_ ” she gave him the address and Remus wrote it down on a random page in a book James left on the center table. “ _I’m coming, too, and I’ll wait for you at the front door!_ ”

“Ok! No problem, I’ll meet you there.”

“ _See you!_ ” Nancy was clearly smiling on the other line.

“Bye!” Remus hung up the call, running to his bedroom and putting on presentable clothes (a black polo shirt and recently-washed jeans), brushing his hair and putting his best sneakers (the newest Chucks he had) and left, screaming Sirius to do the dishes, not even listening when he shouted back it was James’ day.

***

Ilvermorny High School was a school in the wealthiest part of the city, where businessmen, politicians, lawyers and all kinds of rich people sent their children to become _snobbish imbeciles and spoiled fuckers_ , like Sirius used to say - his brother studied in Ilvermorny, and Regulus Black fitted on that exact description.

He had never seen Nancy before, but wasn’t difficult to find her: she was the only one in the entrance, using a bottom up white blouse that made her big tits a little… too visible. Remus got closer, both hands on his pockets, a folder under his right arm, trying not to look like an inexperienced guy who had just graduated _and_ was completely broke.

“You must be Remus!” she smiled and kissed on both cheeks, making him a little embarrassed by the reception.

“Yes.” He smiled. “Nancy, nice to meet you.”

“Peter didn’t tell me his friend was so handsome!” she pinched one of his cheeks, and Remus tried really hard not to blush.

She walked with him through the corridors, and Remus looked at everything, making him almost dizzy with the amount of information. There were a lot of posters, notices, pamphlets and graffiti covering the white walls, all with positive messages and things like Physics, Drama and Math clubs, something he _hoped_ wasn’t really marble on the floor, enormous doors in navy blue and some colorful stained glass on it, dark shiny lockers without drawings or stickers, and a lot of plants on the corridors.

He immediately remembered Hogwarts, the only school he ever set his feet on, with its medieval styling, the uniforms and the discipline, no air conditioning and poor lighting, old furniture and all the dicks drawn on tables, walls and bathrooms, even; it made him surprised that a bunch of high schoolers really studied in Ilvermorny.

The Principal’s office was at the first floor, near some secretariats and club rooms, with a big glass door and a lot of plants around. They entered it, and a middle-aged woman with bushy brown hair was sitting in a white desk, reading Fifty Shades of Grey, which she quickly hided under some papers when she spotted Nancy and Remus.

“Lucy, this is Remus Lupin!” Nancy smiled at her, and the woman looked at Remus over her glasses. “He’s going to teach the kids History!”

“The substitute, huh?” Lucy checked him out. Remus smiled, uncomfortable. “Dr. Himura is waiting for you.”

Nancy waved, guiding Remus to another office, turning right. Everything in there was so bright, and rich-designed, with a replica of The Last Supper from Leornardo da Vinci on the wall, he even felt a little intimidated.

“Himura! I brought him!” Nancy opened the door unceremoniously, scaring the Ilvermorny Principal. He was too a middle-aged, Japanese, jet-black hair and kind face, a cup of tea next to his computer ( _this must cost a thousand bucks_ , Remus thought), and took off his glasses, immediately raising from his seat to shake the guy’s hands.

“Mrs. Hoffmann, you really did!” he had a little accent. “My young man, sit down, please? Would you like a cup of tea, some coffee, water?”

“Water would be nice, thanks.” Remus sat down, crossing legs and tangling his fingers over his lap, nervous.

After a minute, Lucy brought the water, still checking him out, and a cup of coffee for Nancy, that sat beside him.

“So, you brought your curriculum?” Himura asked, and Remus handed him the folder. “Excellent.”

They stayed in silence for a couple minutes, while the Principal read everything, from his Hogwarts’ grades until his courses during and after college, and smiled, satisfied. Nancy continued smiling, her big eyes darting from the Principal to Remus, that tried not to sweat a lot due the nervousness.

“Seems like you got us _something_.” Himura mumbled at Nancy, who laughed, putting a hand over Remus’ arm, that blushed. “So, Mr. Lupin, you have really great grades, since your early educational days, huh?”

“Thank you, sir.” Remus nodded.

“And, some very good courses, besides having the teaching certificate.” He looked at the paper again. “And you’re still twenty-two?”

“Twenty-three on march.” Remus agreed.

“Really impressive, my boy.” Himura continued smiling. Nancy was clearly excited. “Well, you know Mrs. Hoffmann is the President of the Parents Committee?”

“I’ve told him, yes, Himura.” Nancy said, open smile, and Remus looked at her, smiling back.

“And, modestly, she’s the best we’ve ever had here, in Ilvermorny.” Nancy shook her head, saying _Oh, stop that!_ “That being said, I trust her judgment, and after seeing your School Records, I think it's easy to say that, if you agree, we can make a deal here and now.”

Remus’ heart beat so fast against his ribs he was sure Himura and Nancy could hear.

“Of course, I would like it very much.” He nodded again, voice a little shaky.

“You don’t have any other experience besides…” Himura looked at the curriculum. “Working in a music store, called Prewett’s Sound Garden?”

“Yes, sir. My first job.” Remus tried to smile.

“So, you like music?” Himura crossed his arms over the table.

“A lot, sir.”

“Know how to play any instruments?”

Remus paused. The last time he played something was two years ago, exactly at Gideon’s store, and had to sell it in order to pay the rent. Was really difficult to let go at it.

“I’m a former bassist. I learned when I was at Elementary School, but stopped during college.”

“Why?” Himura asked.

“I… felt like concentrating on my studies.” He lied. The last thing those riches needed to know was that he was absolutely broke at the time, more than he was now.

Himura and Nancy exchanged looks, and she winked, as saying _Told you._

“I know we’re in October, in the middle of the semester, but are you available to give classes at all of our grades? Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, Senior?” the Principal asked.

“Yes, I am.” Remus quickly answered. _Of course,_ he thought, _I’m giving even the janitor classes if you want, for fuck’s sake._

“History classes are on Mondays and Thursdays. Here’s the schedule.” Himura handed him a paper, and Remus took it, taking a look.

_Monday Thrusday_

_7h30-8h20 – Senior 7h30-8h20 - Sophomore_

_8h25-9h15 – Freshman 8h25-9h15 - Senior_

_ 9h15-9h45 – First break 9h15-9h45 – First break _

_9h50-10h40 – Junior 9h50-10h40 – Freshman_

_10h45-11h35 – Sophomore 10h45-11h35 – Junior_

“That’s fine. Don’t need to worry.” Remus smiled, and Himura uncrossed arms, raising from his chair.

“I will pay you seventy-five plus the benefits for each class. In a year, you’ll receive this – I don’t think Mrs. Jenkins, our History teacher, will return to work, due her age and the accident. Therefore, if at the end of this school year you got many of our students approved, and do well in our bimonthly assessments, I can employ you definitely as our full professor of History.”

Remus took the contract from the Principal’s hands. Nancy cleared her throat, and the guy looked at her.

“So, Remus, darling, as the President, you know, I have to tell you some things.” She started, moving her hands a lot, as if looking for the words. Himura widened his eyes, understanding, and nodded at her, giving the permission to proceed.

“Yes, Nancy?” Remus asked, a little anxious.

“You’re young, just graduated, and very handsome, I may say.” Remus blushed again. “So, I have to warn you… You’re dealing with lots of young boys and… girls. And we do not tolerate any relationships between teachers and students, besides the professional and, maximum, a _friendship_ -“ she made quotation marks with her fingers “outside classroom, like friends on social media, but that’s all. Nothing more than that.”

Remus nodded vehemently. He wasn’t even planning on being friends with the teenagers, he just wanted money to pay the rent, get some decent clothes, a therapy and maybe another bass.

“So, it’s on the contract, but do I have your word? No relationships, and oh! Very important, too, no bad influences for children?”

“Bad influences?” Remus frowned.

“Like alcohol, drugs, inappropriate behavior, inciting student movements contrary to the principles of this school, agitation, violence, personal political manifestations of any kind, prejudice of any kind, use of explicit language, and other actions that may harm the image of the school and, mainly, irritate parents.” Himura explained, voice dragged as if he had said it a million times.

Remus widened his eyes.

“I mean, dear, you can do whatever you want with your personal life, let’s get this clear here.” Nancy smiled, and Himura nodded. “But we can’t mix intimacy with job, am I right?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded.

“Ok, you can take a look at the contract, now.”

He started reading the bureaucracy, when, flicking the page, he spotted the _Salary_ topic.

_One class, more benefits, 95. Eight classes a week, 760; Four weeks in a month, 3040. Twelve months in a year, 36.480._

He had to try to keep his hands steady, but he couldn’t.

Thirty-six thousand, four hundred and eighty a YEAR.

His first job as a _substitute teacher_.

Remus looked from his contract to Principal Himura and at Nancy. Both of them were chatting, and seemed undisturbed by his poor panic.

He was getting paid almost as much as Peter, in a teaching position. His mind started racing, kinda like an anxiety attack, and he had to take deep breaths, discreetly, trying to calm himself down.

He would really had to make the pumpkin pie Peter liked so much, after that.

Remus rose up from the chair, stopping the adults’ conversation, and cleaned his throat. Smiling, Himura gave him a pen, Remus finished reading everything (he liked to read Terms of Use from websites, too) and signed it.

“Well, Mr. Lupin, my boy” the Principal extended his hand, and Remus took it, shaking it with as much vigor as he could in the moment. Nancy clapped, excited. “Welcome to Ilvermorny High School. Your work starts next week, so you can have time to prepare.”

Remus nodded, so happy he thought he could burst from joy. Himura called his secretary, and after a couple minutes Lucy came with some papers with schedules, classes numbers and floors, students records, folders and four heavy books.

“Here’s everything you’re going to need, _Remie_.” She smiled at him, a weird expression on her face, and Remus tried to be sympathetic, mumbling a _Thank you_.

Another handshake with Principal Himura, Nancy showed him the way back, excusing herself, saying that she needed to see Mr. Harrison, the English teacher, to talk about some seminaries, and he was left alone at the entrance.

Remus turned around. The Ilvermorny High School sign, enormous and in what seemed a fresh-painted navy blue, hanged over the tall glass doors.

He walked to the school gates, hands on his pockets, the same way he did an hour ago, looking at the empty parking lot and thinking, with that salary, he could even get a car.

Remus crossed the street to look at the building one more time. He snapped a photo, smiling with the giant Ilvermorny High School behind him, and sent to the boys groupchat, called _Marauders_.

 _(16:45) Guess who’s fucking teaching now, bitches,_ he typed, smiling and not remembering the last time he felt so happy.

***

The Three Broomsticks was an old two-story house with a medieval appearance, fake torches beside the huge wooden doors and brown brick walls, a dimly lit sign indicating the name of the bar.

Inside, it had a cozy appearance, always being warm, even in summer, with several wooden pillars, high ceiling, a huge mirror behind the bar and a small stage for presentations. During the night, it was always crowded, sometimes with live music, and known for drinks that were not found anywhere, such as the famous butterbeer and firewhiskey, whose receipts were kept secretly by the bartenders.

Was almost four in the afternoon when Sirius arrived, looking both ways before putting the key on the lock and entering the building, closing the door right after. For the first time, he was the first to arrive, and smirked while admired himself on the mirror behind the bar, phone on his right ear.

“Right, I’m in, what do I do now?” he asked, passing a hand through his raven hair. It was a little longer, more than he ever let it grow since high school, a little past his chin, framing his face.

“ _Okay, the switches are on the employees’ room, behind the Mona Lisa painting._ ” Rosmerta said, a loud baby cry in the background. “ _Turn them all on._ ”

“’kay.” Sirius answered, throwing his backpack over the counter and walking to the end of the bar, where right beside the kitchen was a black door, a sign in white saying _AUTHORIZED PEOPLE ONLY_. Using another key, he opened that door and turned on the lights, the Mona Lisa painting looking directly at him. “Shit, I’ve always hated that painting, looks like she’s gonna murder me or some shit.”

“ _I wanted to get rid of it but felt sorry to throw it away._ ” Rosmerta laughed, the baby still crying. Then, her voice, a little away from the phone, as if she was talking with someone else. “ _God, if she doesn’t stop now, I’m going to cry too_.”

“Tough day?” Sirius smiled, pushing away the Mona Lisa and turning all the switches on the direction the stickers said _On_.

“ _Oh, sorry, you heard me. Yeah, and I’m so tired, I’m sorry._ ” Rosmerta really sounded tired, and Sirius put the painting back to its place, turning around and exiting the room. Now illuminated, the Three Broomsticks looked like itself again, cozy and inviting.

“Nah, don’t worry. I mean, how old is she?” he asked, referring to Rosmerta second daughter, Jenny.

“ _Three months. I’ve never been more exhausted in my entire life, really. Not even with Alex was this hard. Glad Rob is helping, but he has to work, and you know I don’t want to call my mom to ask for help when she lives in the other side of the country._ ” Rosmerta sighed, and Sirius looked around, seeing if something needed cleaning. “ _And at the same time I’m putting you on command, and I know I should be there, I’m burdening you, and-“_

“Hey, Merta, don’t worry, for real!” Sirius interrupted her, taking his hoodie off and putting it over the counter, sitting in one of the benches in front of it. “You had a child three months ago, you should be at home with your kids and shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help when needed. I mean-“ he looked down at his black SK8 HI Vans. “I know zero about taking care of babies, but I know it must be a pain in the ass. Plus, it’s not like I have other things to do, so.”

“ _My_ _kid, please. Alex is in the daycare, thanks God._ _And more than a pain in the ass, is a pain in my breasts, and back, and arm, and neck, and everywhere else._ ” She joked and Sirius laughed, shaking his head negatively. “ _Ok, so, I’m asking for your help now. Rob will hate it, put I’m putting you in command._ ”

“Rob still hates me?” Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows. “And I’ve gotta ask, why me?”

“ _Of course he does, you said you liked me for two years straight and I even let you sleep over the bar._ ” Rosmerta replied, and the baby cry stopped abruptly. Sirius heard some sounds on the other side and a hurried whisper “ _Oh, God, she finally slept! Wait, wait, wait!”_

Ten seconds later, a sound of a door closing, and Rosmerta sighed loudly, making Sirius laugh.

“Why put _me_ on command? I mean, there’s Bill, and Zoe, and Miguel on the kitchen, all three of them are older and work here longer than I do.” Sirius repeated the question.

“ _Because – I trust you._ ” She really meant it, and Sirius smiled. “ _I’ve talked to them before about this. They don’t care, and besides, Zoe has her kids, Bill is working on the morning shift and Miguel lives on the other side of the city._ ” She explained. “ _You’re the only one other than me that lives close to the Brooms, and I need someone trustworthy who can take care of the bar when needed_.”

“I think I’m having a _déjà vu_.” Sirius smirked.

“ _Yeah, I know. But its only for a while, my maternity leave is ending._ _Just for two, maybe three more weeks, and I’m back_.” She said. “ _Hiring you because of low quantity of workers is a thing, but putting you on command permanently is a whole other story.”_

“Dunno, you said the same thing when Alex was born. ‘ _You can work here, but it’s temporary_ ’, remember?” Sirius teased. “And how the fuck is your maternity leave is ending if you’re the owner? I mean, you could stay at home for as long as you want.”

“ _I do remember I told you it was temporary, but I would be an idiot if I didn’t hire you. You’re one of our best bartenders – don’t flatter yourself at that, Black._ ” Sirius laughed. _“And, I love my job! I’m not going to be a stay-home mother to both of them, doesn’t suit me at all. I need to be at night, there, all those people, the music, the vibe!”_ Rosmerta said, and by the tone of her voice, Sirius knew she was smiling. “ _I love Jenny, but I can’t stop. Rob doesn’t make enough for us_.”

“I’m not saying you should quit, I’m just saying that you should enjoy more time with your new family!” Sirius smiled too, and joked. “But whatever, now that you’re not here and _I’m_ the manager, I can hit up on the customers without worrying about you watching me all the time.”

“ _Don’t make me regret the decision I just took, Black._ ” Rosmerta joked back. “ _But I’m glad you brought this up, I have another thing to ask you_.”

“All ears.” Sirius leaned against the counter, changing the hand that held the phone.

“ _I hired a new waitress, since Frances left us last month. I told her to come today, I’ve known her older sister all my life and she needed a job. That’s why I asked you to come earlier._ ” Rosmerta told him, and Sirius bit his lip, interested. “ _You were a waiter before barman, and now that you’re the manager, I need you to teach her basic stuff, like how to serve the tables, the name of the plates, show her around, those kinds of things._ ”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’m gonna teach her.”

“ _Sirius._ ” Rosmerta voice was serious, all of a sudden.

“Yeah?”

“ _Behave yourself, okay?”_

Sirius held back a laugh. “How do you mean, ‘behave myself’?”

“ _Don’t do anything I wouldn’t let you do with the girl. She’s nineteen. And you’re the manager know, remember?_ ”

“Nineteen? Nice and young. Is she pretty? I’ll make sure she passes through all my tests.” He teased Rosmerta, and the woman laughed on the other side of the phone.

“ _Sirius, I swear to God. Don’t. Or I’ll fire you._ ”

“What? You can’t fire me, this place’s nothing without me!” He smirked, and a sudden noise on the door made him get up, walking to one of the windows. “Besides, you’re saying that as if I hit up on every female I put my eyes on!”

“ _That’s exactly what you do, Sirius! I’ve known you for a long time, you know that!_ ” Rosmerta laughed.

Outside of the Broomsticks, was a girl with dark hair, wearing flannels and black pants, dar pink sneakers on her feet. Sirius couldn’t see her face because of the angle of the window.

“Anyway, there’s a girl on the door, think that might be her?” He asked, walking to the door.

“ _Yeah! Okay, remember, behave yourself, okay? Don’t pester the girl, it’s her first job, please!_ ” Rosmerta insisted, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Merta, things will be fine, I’m on charge now, y’know how professional I am.” He smiled, and was sure Rosmerta was, too. “So, go take a shower, or a nap, and enjoy while your kid isn’t screaming her lungs out.”

“ _I’ll. Behave yourself!”_

“I will!” he replied, tiredly but not annoyed.

“ _Sirius._ ”

“I promise-ee!” he said with a singy-song voice.

“ _Thank you. For all_.”

He smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

Putting his phone on his pocket, he looked at himself again on the mirror and opened the door. The girl, looking very much younger than nineteen, had a round face, big brown eyes under messy bangs and as shorter than he expected – he guessed she wouldn’t be taller than 5 feet 2.

“Hi!” she smiled at him. “You’re Sirius? Rosmerta told me you would be here.”

“Yeah. Come in.” He nodded, and she entered the Broomsticks, looking around at the bar, at the ceiling and the mirror, tons of bottles stored under it, the tables. Sirius smiled at how mesmerized she looked, leaning against the counter. “Like what you see?”

The girl nodded, eyes on the small stage. “Do you guys have live music?”

“Some days on the week, mostly Fridays and Saturdays.” He shrugged.

“Nice.” She smiled, biting her lower lip, and turned to Sirius. He found she was a little innocent-looking to him, but pretty anyway. “So, if Rosmerta is nursing, who’s on charge?”

“I’m on charge.” Sirius winked at her, and the girl visibly blushed at his tone. _Huh. So easy_ , he thought. “So, what’s your name? Rosmerta was so busy she probably forgot to tell.”

“Alice.” She extended a hand to him, which Sirius grabbed and kissed, instead of shaking, making her _more_ flushed.

“Alice.” He repeated. “Nice name.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, and Sirius was about to say something when Rosmerta’s voice on his head remembered him to _behave_. He found it was better to be a little professional, only on that first encounter.

“So, the Brooms – it’s how I like to call it – opens at eight, every day, minus Mondays, that are our day off. Usually, there’s no one around by this time, maybe tomorrow, because Friday the band comes and stuff, but not during Sundays to Thursdays. And I’m never here during the afternoon.” Sirius smiled at her, and Alice nodded, hands on her back, still looking around but paying attention to his words. He took the opportunity to check her out – the tight jeans she wore revealed she had nice legs. “Merta wanted me to teach you some stuff, so, that’s why she asked you to come so early. I’ll show you the place.”

Sirius dodged her, walking to the end of the bar, and looked back, so Alice started following him. It was funny, being the boss, and he tried to remember the same words Rosmerta told him when he just completed eighteen, no home or money.

“Here’s our room.” Sirius said, turning the lights of the room on again. “There’s some lockers in there, so you can put your stuff, because you’re going to work on the salon, but I put mine under the counter, since I don’t leave the place.”

Alice entered the room, taking a look around, and Sirius took a permanent marker over the lockers to give it to her, indicating an empty locker. She frowned, a questioning look on her face.

“Write your name. So people will know its yours.” He explained, and she wrote _Alice_ with a cursive letter, a heart over the letter _“i”,_ which made him smirk. “You really do this? Like, heart on top of the _i_?”

“Yeah.” Alice shrugged, red cheeks. “I started doing it on Elementary school and continued since.” She took another look around, spotting the other lockers beside hers. On the left side, the names Zoe and Sirius. On the right side, Bill, Gemma, Tyler and Sasha. There was a tiny couch and some umbrellas hanged behind the door. “So, just us-“ she indicated the names on the lockers “in here? Isn’t the bar a little… Huge for only seven people?”

“Oh, no, we’re in the bar, there’s the kitchen too, but they put their things on another room. Let’s go.” Sirius indicated, turning around, and Alice put her purse inside the now-her-locker, exiting the room and turning the lights off. They entered the other room, on the left, behind big wooden doors with a tiny window on it.

The kitchen was huge, just like the entire bar, with floor made of light wooden and the walls in cream colored tiles, and Sirius pointed at other doors on the opposite side of the room. “Their bathrooms and the lockers, y’know. And here-“ he said, turning around and returning to the corridor that lead to the main salon, “is the stairs, for the second floor.”

He opened another door, in red this time, also marked with _AUTHORIZED PEOPLE ONLY_ , and turned the lights on, revealing the stairs, also made of wood. Alice followed him, arms-crossed, and when they arrived the second floor, he leaned on the balcony, and the girl widened her eyes, looking down. They were looking at the tables and the bar downstairs.

“This used to be a normal house, I don’t know how long ago. Probably like fifty years. There wasn’t that door. The whole place was restored when Rosmerta took over.” Sirius explained, and them turned around. In front of them, three doors, and one at the end of the corridor. “The one in blue is the office, y’know Robert, her husband?” Alice nodded negatively. “Well, when he’s here, it’s his place. It’s all Merta’s and his stuff. The yellow door is another bathroom, and has a thing to change diaper – Bill, the other bartender, you’re gonna meet him, says this is the girls’, because is clean as shit.”

Alice laughed, opening the door and turning on the light. Really, it was clearly shining and decorated with flowery tiles in blue, and smelled like something clean. “Yeah, I think I’ll use this one.”

“Or you can use the bathroom next to the kitchen. No problems.” Sirius shrugged. “Inside this door is warehouse, and the stock is on the black door.” He pointed at the third and the door at the end of the corridor, remembering the days he used to sleep inside that room “but you don’t need to worry about it since you’re going to serve the tables.”

Alice nodded, taking another look around and down, at the bar and tables. Sirius leaned against the stock door and crossed his arms, watching her. “This is huge, really. I never came in here before.”

“What? How come?” he asked, arching a brow.

“I moved in recently. Don’t know if Rosmerta told you, but I lived with my dad, and came here to college, to live with Agatha. My sister.” She explained, and Sirius nodded. Besides being nineteen, she was in college? This would be fun.

“What do you do?”

“Biology with emphasis on plants.” She smiled, and Sirius nodded again, surprised. “Yeah, no one believes. But I like it.”

“And you’re sure you want to work in the night shift? I mean, sometimes I leave this place next to four in the morning.” Sirius began walking again, making his way down the stairs, and Alice followed him.

“I know, but I really need the money. My sister has started working on a hospital and can’t handle things alone.”

“Right.” Sirius smiled at her, opening the door to let her pass and closing it. Alice looked up at him, and the difference in height made him chuckle. “Okay, ready to learn to serve tables? Do you have some experience?”

“No… not at all.” She replied, biting her lower lip, and Sirius thought she was cute.

“I knew shit about it when I first started, and it does take a little time to get good at it, but it’s fine. We have time before the night begins.” He said, entering behind the counter and taking a tray from underneath it. “Here. Let’s do it.”

***

Alice ended being a fast learner. She was pretty shy at the beginning, but as the afternoon went and Sirius made his “cheesy jokes”, as James liked to call, she ended loosening up a bit and they even laughed together. He obviously flirted with her from time to time, not being able to ignore how her shiny her brown eyes were and how pretty her smile was. She even made some cheesy jokes of her own, surprising him, and making him more curious to get to know her better.

Even though she started working on a Thursday, Alice wasn’t intimidated by the usual intense movement of the weekend on the Brooms. She wasn’t a pro, of course, but she dealt with all the small unforeseen events with good mood, smiling at everyone, even with the customers that treated her badly.

She also got along really well with the salon – besides Sirius, Bill, Sasha and Gemma worked on the bar, while Tyler and Zoe were the other waiters. The kitchen guys, who she didn’t had much contact, also liked her, and Rosmerta made sure to call every day to ask how things were going – as her maternity leave came to an end, she was anxious to start working again.

And Sirius was really satisfied. No one seemed to be bothered by him being the manager on charge – he knew he had some flaws, like being a little inconsequential with his own actions and his life, but at work, _this_ work, he felt like being on a true family, his second one (James and his parents, Remus and Peter were his first), so different from the one he came from. They liked him, trusted him, and unlike most people he knew, he _enjoyed_ working.

Which was impressive. The fifteen-year old Sirius would never believe if someone told him he was going to enjoy being part of the system at the age of twenty-two.

And besides all that, was the fact that working in a bar gave him the privilege to get to know women – all ages, all types – for his delight. Being a bartender at a famous bar made him helped him have a lot of sex in the last almost-five years he was there.

Sirius knew that was the motive every time a girl entered the team at the Brooms Rosmerta told him to behave. She even was right in some aspects – as a teen, he worshiped her (even she already dated Robert, her now husband), the same way he tried to date Sasha (who was a little older, maybe two or three years), Zoe (she was really nice for someone on mid-forties), Isabel (who worked on the kitchen and was, too, a little older) and basically every woman that gave him the chance to approach.

He thought of that while making a Piña Colada to a very good-looking woman, he bet probably had thirty, but surely not more than thirty-five, with long red hair and lips on a dark purple shade. As Sirius gave the glass to her, he leaned against the counter top, smirking, and she winked and blew a kiss at his direction, making him lick his lips while she made her way back to her table, full of other nice-looking women.

 _Well_ , he thought. _Maybe I do like older women_. _A lot._

He got distracted by that thought when looked at Alice. Her dark hair was partially half up on a ponytail, half down, her bangs to one side of her face, and she smiled at something an old-guy said, taking notes of the order. Sirius looked her from head to toe while she came up to him, and when she rose her brown eyes to meet his grey ones, he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of her face getting redder.

“What?” she asked, handing the little paper with the order written on it. _2 beers, 1 soda_ , in a round pretty cursive letter.

“Dunno. Funny joke?” he teased, taking two bottles of beer and a can of soda from the fridge.

“He was complimenting me. Nothing too weird, thought.” Alice explained, tapping her fingers on the counter while waiting. He noticed her nails were in pink polish.

“Like what?” he asked, cleaning the bottles before putting it over the tray.

“He said I looked like his niece.” she got the tray, and Sirius leaned again on the counter.

“Well, his niece must be very pretty.” Sirius smirked, and Alice’s cheeks got red again, before she rolled her eyes, smiled, and left.

He kept looking at her back, the way her hips moved as she walked, when someone bumped a hip against his, scaring him.

“You don’t miss a chance, do you?” Sasha asked, cleaning a cup, and Sirius laughed.

“What do you mean? I’m totally innocent here.” He raised his arms. The woman shook her head, her light brown curls dancing around her face as she did so.

“She’s here for like, four days, and you’re already chasing her like a prey.” She bumped her hip against his again, and Sirius rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Not like a prey! Just… I mean…” he tried to find the words, looking back at her. Alice looked at him for a second, smiling when their eyes met. “Oh, c’mon, Sasha, she’s nice!”

“Sure she is.” The bartender agreed, taking a bottle of vodka from the freezer and laughing. “Just don’t do anything Rosmerta wouldn’t like you to do, _boss_.”

Sirius mumbled _yeah, yeah_ at Sasha, dodging her to serve some customers that sat on the benches in front of the counter. He couldn’t help but laugh again, thinking of the way she said the word _boss._

 _Who’s the unworthy bastard now, mother?_ He thought, while serving a dose of whisky to a guy.

The Sunday shift ended at almost three in the morning, after all the cleaning in the salon, Sirius finally took his uniform off – a black shirt written _Three Broomsticks_ in gold letters, a broom under it, to put his plain green shirt (that probably was James’; he didn’t remember having a green shirt) and his hoodie. Sasha, Bill and Zoe had already left, and he whistled at Tyler, who was at the second floor, to get the guy’s attention, waving goodbye.

The night air was starting to get cold – almost mid-October, winter was just around the corner as autumn came to it’s peak, and sighed. It had been a busy work day, and Sirius was really looking forward to Monday, the day off when the Brooms didn’t open.

He patted the front backpack pocket, taking a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, when a sudden movement on the corner of his eye made him frown. Slowly, he turned, just to see Alice, back and a foot against the wall.

She was looking nice, her cheeks flushed due the wind, and smiled at him. Sirius smiled back, but frowned when she raised her fingers to her lips, his mouth opening slightly as she held a cigarette.

“What?” Sirius asked, getting closer to her. Alice raised her eyebrows, a tiny smile on her rose lips, taking her own lighter and turning the flame on at him. He put his cigarette between the lips, inhaling and lightning it. Holding the smoke for a couple seconds, then blew it in the air. “How do you smoke? Aren’t you nineteen?”

“What are you, my father?” Alice asked, laughing, doing the same with her cigarette. “C’mon, how old were _you_ when you started smoking?”

Sirius snorted. He remembered being something like fourteen when first discovered the power of nicotine. “Yeah, whatever.” He leaned against the wall, facing her, while she faced the street. “It’s just- it doesn’t suit you.”

Alice looked up at him. “What do you mean, doesn’t _suit_ me?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, cigarette between the lips. “I mean, you give me such ‘good girl’ vibes. Like…” he considered a bit, before smirking down at her. “Cute, maybe.”

“I’m not _cute_.” She exhaled the smoke in a circular pattern in the air, fighting back a smile. “You’ve been flirting with me for three days and that’s the best you can manage?”

Sirius choked a little on the smoke, turning back at her to cough. Alice seemed very satisfied with his reaction.

“Excuse me, I wasn’t flirting!” he lied, taking his raven hair out of his face with a head movement. “It’s called _being nice_.”

“Not what Sasha and Zoe told me.” She replied, shrugging, her cigarette on her lips.

“Oh, c’mon.” he rolled his eyes, smiling. “What did they tell you?”

“You’re not gonna fire us because we were gossiping about you, are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What? Hell no!” He smirked, flicking off the ashes. “Lemme guess. Hm… Maybe, promiscuous?”

“Sasha actually used the term ‘fuck-boy’”. Alice smiled, trying to hold back a laugh when Sirius himself laughed. “But I learned not to judge a book by its cover, so.”

He nodded, inhaling the smoke. He always acted like he was bothered by the things people called him, but he didn’t really care. It was a natural talent, the way he could have woman as easy as a snap of fingers, and knew that if someone wasn’t in the place to say something bad about it was Sasha – or else she wouldn’t have gone out with him two years before.

But he wasn’t going to be an asshole and tell the girl that, as if he was bragging. If Sasha didn’t mention, wasn’t him the one who was going to bring the subject to the table.

The wind blowing made Alice’s dark hair fly a little into her face. Before she put if away, Sirius put some strings of hair behind her ear, and she looked up, smiling shyly, with the cigarette hanging from her lips, the dim orange light illuminating her red cheeks. He imagined - if he was going to kiss her, he would have to bend down considerably, since she was really shorter than him.

They remained in silence for a couple minutes, smoking and stealing glances from each other. Rosmerta’s voice was still clear on his mind since Thursday, and he was _trying_ to behave – but looking at her, her pretty face, the way her fingers held the cigarette, her lipstick staining the end of it, her dark hair framing her face, Sirius really felt like kissing her at that very moment.

Maybe his intentions were visible in his face, because Alice shook her head and laughed, biting her lower lip, stubbing the cigarette out on the sidewalk with the tip of her Converse, and turning her body at him, mirroring his pose. Sirius said nothing, just looking deep inside her eyes until his own cigarette ended.

“So.” He broke the silence, blowing the smoke one last time to the night air. Alice stared at him. “How far do you live?”

“Why?” she asked, the tiniest smile on her lips.

“It’s really late, and you’re a girl. So…” he shrugged, looking at his watch. Almost four in the morning.

“What a gentleman.” Alice teased.

“I try.” He winked at her.

“I live three blocks away. That way.” She indicated he direction at his back with her chin. Sirius turned around, taking three steps away from her, making the girl roll her eyes. “Gonna walk me home?”

“Yeah.” He simply said.

“Why? I mean, I live close, there’s no need for you to-“ Sirius took another three steps away from her, and she stopped talking to frown, but smiling, confused. “Seriously?”

“C’mon, Alice.” He nodded in the direction she pointed, hands on his pockets.

She considered for a couple seconds, before jogging a little and sighing when reached him – clearly, he wasn’t going to change his mind. They exchanged a look, and she licked her lips, gesture that did not go unnoticed by Sirius, even thought her face was partially covered by her hair.

The three blocks walk was made in silence, but both of them were a little nervous, hyper aware of the presence of each other. Sirius liked the butterflies in the stomach – Remus told him it was a reaction caused by adrenaline, and _boy,_ he was a big fan of that hormone. As a kid and teenager, the butterflies manifested just as he was about to do something stupid - like before doing a really good prank with James or fighting against someone, jumping over the Hogwarts wall to skip class and buy cigarettes, the first time he listened to an album of a band he really liked, learning how to play a new riff on the guitar, using drugs and drinking for the first time.

As Sirius got older, the butterflies started appearing as he was about to do something with a girl – and depending of how much he was into her, it was really intense. Alice got him under that effect.

She stopped walking in front of a three-story building with red brick walls, looked at Sirius for a half-second, and went up the stairs that led to the entrance door. He followed her, silently, and they stopped, facing each other. She took her keys from her jeans’ pocket, playing with it a little, not looking up at him.

“At home with safety.” Sirius whispered, and Alice shivered – he wondered if it was due the cold night air.

She continued in silence for a couple moments more, before looking up at him. He was leaned against the door, smirking a bit, hands still on his pockets.

The girl opened her mouth twice before whispering back. “I sense something.”

“What?” Sirius asked, lowering a little to get closer to her.

“I sense you’re trouble.” Alice said, biting her lip, and Sirius chuckled at that.

“Why?”

“Just by looking at you.” She shrugged, taking a step in his direction. “You have that ‘bad-boy’ vibe. Like you’re up to no good.”

Sirius nodded, smirk always on his lips. “I’m _always_ up to no good.”

Alice giggled shyly. Sirius didn’t miss the way her brown eyes darted from his to his lips, and as she took another short step in his direction, he used the right hand to brush some hair out of her face.

“Don’t think I’m doing because I’m the boss at the moment. I would’ve done it if Rosmerta was working.” He explained, joking, and Alice nodded, smiling at him. “’Cause I’m curious about the cute waitress she hired.”

“Curious?” Alice whispered. The night was in a complete silence – she felt like the minimum louder sound would break the magic. He was looking so intensely, grey eyes shining with the street lamps, that she had to find some courage to tease him. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Glad my friends call me ‘dog’”. Sirius bit his lower lip, lids lowered, eyes on her small mouth, rosy lips.

He was right about having to lower a decent amount to kiss her – at the same time, Alice had to stand on tiptoe, throwing her arms over his shoulders, while his hands went to her waist, and she sighed when their mouths touched. It was intense – the tension between them was a little palpable, and Sirius quickly intensifies the kiss, his tongue avid for hers.

The butterflies on his stomach made him smile against her, squeezing her body a little, and he hummed appreciatively when Alice tangled her fingers on his hair, pulling a bit. She tasted like nicotine and something sweet, like cherry soda, the fact that what they were doing was kind of forbidden made him shiver.

But it meant nothing. Was only desire – he found her pretty, nice, funny, and she obviously retributed his glances, and didn’t turn him down when he was – yes – flirting with her. And it didn’t matter she was working for only four days on the Brooms; he had kissed and even fucked girls with much less time of knowing.

Sirius made her take two steps, softly leaning her back against the wall beside the door, and put a hand on the back of her neck, holding her face up to his, kissing her hard, which make Alice produce the quietest moans. Sirius could feel he was _really_ turned on, and when she bit his lower lip, he huffed, trying not to groan.

“You’re too tall.” She whispered, mouth glued to his.

“You’re too short.” He said back, kissing her.

The intensity made her moan a little louder this time, and he squeezed her waist. “My calves are getting tired.” She stopped the kiss again, a little out of breath. Sirius rested his forehead against her, taking a couple of deep breaths too. “How tall are you?”

“6 feet.”

“Oh.” She nodded, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Nothing. I find tall man hot.”

Sirius said nothing at that – he just kissed her again, with the same desire from before, and pressed his body a little against her, not even caring she could probably fell him hard against her abdomen. The way she sighed softly was _really_ nice to him, and he used a little strength to lift her a bit, so she wouldn’t get tired – he was really hoping to tire her in the next hours.

“Sirius…” she whispered when he left her lips to kiss her neck, her nails scraping his scalp, and he hummed again, closed eyes. His lips were back to hers. “Let’s…”

The door opened and a man with gym clothes almost fell, startled at the couple, and Sirius immediately pulled back, taking a step down, heart bumping fast against his ribs – the sudden movement and all the blood between his legs making him slightly dizzy. Alice was completely flushed, lips swollen and lipstick smudged – her brown eyes were widened, and she felt like she could _die_ at that very moment.

“Whoa! Sorry, kids, I mean! I always wake up at five to run, I wasn’t expecting finding you!” the man tried to explain himself, a hand over his heart, not even caring about how embarrassed both Sirius and Alice were. “Well, don’t mind me, carry on!” he said, going down the stairs and started running.

Alice looked at the man until he took a corner and disappeared, but Sirius could only look at her. She was a great kisser, just the height difference was a disadvantage. He definitely wanted more – as James’ father once said, on the horizontal, things like that didn’t matter.

“It’s five in the morning?” she asked, looking up. The before dark sky was now getting lighter, shades of orange and light pink already on the clouds, the few starts they could see disappearing.

“Probably. Didn’t see time go by.” He steeped up, returning to his previous position, and looked down at her. She was really pretty.

“I have classes tomorrow. Today.” Alice smiled, passing a hand thought her hair. “My sister will soon wake up to go to the hospital.”

“I can wait.” Sirius smirked, and she laughed, rolling her eyes, before her expression faded to a little shyer one. “What’s wrong?”

“Sirius, I don’t… I mean, you’re a nice - great even – guy, and you’re an amazing kisser, I can tell, and _really, really_ pretty, too…” she mumbled, face hot, looking down and trying to find the right words. Sirius, on the other hand, just smiled; he knew what she was about to say.

“But you don’t want to date. Me neither.” He whispered at her, and Alice rose her eyes at him, parted lips. She nodded after some seconds. “Yeah. I was… Well, if you said I’m a good kisser, then damn, I’m happy.”

Alice giggled at that. “You are. But we work at the same place. We just got to know each other. I don’t think…”

“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I’m not firing you or using this against you at the Brooms.” He assured her. “It was… a moment. A thing.”

Alice seemed relieved at his words. “Right! A moment. I’m partially guilty, I mean, I flirted back, I wanted this too, was really great, but…”

She stopped talking, looking at his lips. Sirius licked them before kissing her, a little gentler this time. When he stood back, her eyes were still closed.

“I hope this don’t make things weird.”

“If it depends on me, they won’t.” he whispered, putting a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve kissed girls I’ve worked with before. It’s kinda like making new friends.”

Alice laughed, nodding, and pulled him for another kiss. When the birds started singing, she pushed him a little, ending the kiss and the night. He understood that.

“Sorry, you got zero rest.” He apologized, and she shook her head, biting her lower lip.

“Nah. I’ll sleep all afternoon, since we don’t have work.” She said, chuckling. Sirius nodded.

They stayed in a silence before she sighed, looking down at her keys, that never left her hand. Sirius figured it was time to go home.

“See you Tuesday?” he asked.

“Yeah. See you on Tuesday.” She said on a dreamy sigh. Sirius kissed her quickly before going down the stairs.

It didn’t mean nothing, and he was glad she knew that – besides, Alice was a really nice girl and he didn’t want to screw things up with her, mainly now that they would work together for God knew how long.

But Sirius couldn’t fight the victorious smile that surged in his lips while he walked home – ten blocks from her building. He didn’t care people passing through him, running, walking or starting their week. He lit up another cigarette, enjoying as the smoke travelled his airways, the bitter taste he learned to appreciate years ago.

It wasn’t the end of the night he was expecting – he surely forgot she was still on college, that it was a Monday morning and she probably had early classes, like James, but when they were kissing she didn’t seem worried at all with all that.

There was no one at the lobby when Sirius arrived home, and he dropped the cigarette on the floor, smashing it with his feet, blowing the smoke and entering the building. He took a look at himself in the mirror of the elevator – a sign of dark circles indicated he needed some sleep, and was really glad that the Broomsticks closed on Monday.

When he opened the door to the apartment, the kitchen light was on, indicating that someone – and Sirius probably knew who – was already up. He took his sneakers off and hung his backpack on the hooks over the door, making his way to the other room.

Remus was sat on his usual place at the kitchen table, taking a sip of his coffee, reading some papers. He had cut his hair on the day before, chopping it almost completely – the shoulder length brown hair was now short on the sides, a little messy on the top, and probably when it grew longer, would start covering his eyes.

“Already up?” Sirius asked, entering the kitchen and searching for his The Who mug.

“Couldn’t sleep. Need to get ready to work.” Remus said, without raising his eyes from his papers. “You’re like, really late. So late you’re early.”

“Yeah.” Sirius smirked, putting some coffee and leaning against the sink. The short response made Remus look up.

“Why do you have that shit-eating grin on your face?” Remus asked, starting to smile. Sirius shrugged, taking a sip of the hot black liquid. “Are you sober?”

“Maybe for the first time in weeks, yeah, I am. I didn’t drink today.” He answered, and Remus laughed, amused.

“What happened?” Remus asked again, crossing his arms. He was already using jeans, but with a worn hoodie on; Sirius guessed he wasn’t going at Ilvermorny dressed like that.

“Remember that girl. Waitress, shorty, sweet face, I hired on Thursday?” Sirius started, and Remus laughed, already knowing where the story was going to end. “She smokes. I didn’t knew-“ at the inquisitive look on Moony’s face, he explained “cigarettes, not weed, but whatever, she smokes, and I was like, what? How do you smoke, you’re nineteen-“

“She’s nineteen?” Remus asked. “Oh, c’mon!”

“She’s legal, okay?” Sirius pointed at him with the mug. “Anyway, we chatted, I was hitting up on her, she was flirting back, so I offered to walk her home if she lived near.”

“What a gentleman.” Remus mocked.

“She said the same thing!” Sirius laughed, and took a sip of his coffee. “So, I walk her home, and she starts playing with her keys-“

“Oh no, Sirius, you didn’t use the Will Smith’s technique in Hitch.” Remus interrupted him, and Sirius nodded. “Like, for real?”

“Yeah, mate! Trust me, it really works, like, I’ve fucked girls because I knew this technique – they don’t want you to go away, and they don’t have the guts to take the next step.” Sirius explained, and Remus had to bite his lips to avoid laughing loud and waking James and Peter. “Lemme finish: she starts playing with her keys, short story, we kissed like, damn long, and she kissed so good.”

“So you fucked her?” Remus asked.

“Nah. Some guy interrupted us, we were kissing in the front door of the building, and she realized the sun was rising, she had classes, that kinda shit.” Sirius finished, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Didn’t end the way you planned?” Remus guessed, taking another look at his papers.

“Of course not. You know me.” Sirius smirked. “But anyway, she quickly dismissed me. I think she feared I was going to ask her on a date or something, but I told her I just wanted to kiss her. I was like, curious.”

“And you used the ‘dog’ line.” Remus guessed again, and Sirius snorted.

“Damn, Moony, you really know me.” Sirius said, putting the mug over the sink and taking a look at the dish-washing schedule. “It’s Wormtail’s day.”

“Of course I know you, since I was eleven.” Remus rolled his eyes but still smiling. Sirius made his way out of the kitchen, but stopped beside him, taking a look at the paper.

“What’s that?”

“My schedules. Things I’ll need to teach today. I’m taking all four grades.”

“Shit, looks like hell of a job.” Sirius mumbled, passing his eyes through some subjects he remembered vaguely learning about in high school. “Nervous?”

“As fuck. I really wanted to smoke but I’m afraid of getting high on my first day.” Remus laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry, Moony, you’re gonna be fine. You got the job, you always were good at teaching, and with making people respect you. You’re gonna nail it.” Sirius smiled, tapping his friend on the shoulder, and Remus looked up.

“Thanks, Padfoot.” Remus felt a little better with the words that came from Sirius. It was hard seeing his friend that way – sober, and being kind with words, no swearing involved. “You should be sober more times.”

“ _Bo-oring!_ ” he sang, exiting the kitchen and sitting on the couch, turning the TV on. “Fuck, I’m not gonna sleep after that coffee.”

Remus snorted, taking another look at his notes to the Senior’s class, the first one of his entire life.

***

Even thought he never slept, Remus still managed to get a little late – he tried to take a relaxing bath before work and forgot the time – by the time his alarm indicated he needed to be getting out home to get the subway, he was still on the shower.

So he was at the gate of Ilvermorny High School at exactly six fifty-two in the morning, a little intimidated by the crowd of teenagers, with their expensive clothes, and took another look at himself – he wore a grey sweater over a white blouse, black jeans and black Nikes, his bag on his right shoulder, hands on his pockets, feeling a little out of place and thanking God he cut his hair on Saturday.

Kids passed by without even noticing him, and Remus clearly could distinguish the cliché groups he used to see only in the movies – jocks, the popular girls, the nerds, the excluded, the stoners. At Hogwarts they didn’t had anything of that – first, the uniform policy avoided discrimination for the use of more expensive or cheaper clothes, so that all students were equal; second, sports were highly encouraged, meaning they had to get good grades in sports in order to not fail (he still didn’t know how Peter managed it); and third, it was a boy’s school, meaning that the quantity of girls walking around using mini skirts in mid-October impressed him. He imagined the fifteen-year old Remus and that amount of bare-skin showing, and blushed – he couldn’t even imagine _Sirius_ and that amount of legs and cleavages every day.

Looking at his watch at the same exact moment the bell rang, he quickly entered before the wild mass of teenagers, making the only way he knew – the Principal’s office, behind the same glass doors.

Lucy was at her table, reading a book called Bared to You by Sylvia Day, and Remus tried to suppress a laugh. The movement caught the woman’s eye, and she smiled widely at him over her half-moon glasses, lowering the book in a discreet way.

“Remie! Hello! Nice to see you!” she said, and Remus nodded. “Did you want some help finding your classes? I can help you-“

“Lupin, my boy!” Principal Himura emerged from his office, and Remus felt a little relieved by the interruption. “First day!”

“Yeah.” He nodded, pressing his lips together. “I didn’t know how to proceed, so…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you to your first class! I need to speak with every grade today before you start, that’s a usual procedure here in Ilvermorny, I’m glad you anticipated the protocol.”

“Er… right.” Remus forced a smile, trying to ignore the annoyance of Lucy’s face. He had a bad feeling about her wanting to show him the school. “My first is Senior.”

“The History classroom is on the third floor, let’s take the elevator.” Principal Himura said, exiting the room, and Remus followed him without bothering to take a look back, hands already sweating.

They dodged a big number of students on their lockers, chatting and messing around, some looking at him and the Principal, saying _good mornings_ , entering some classes on the ground floor - a certain sense of nostalgia for him.

“The first bell is at seven, and the second one, when the classes effectively begin, is at seven and ten.” Himura explained, and Remus tried to make mental notes about the classes he was seeing, such as corridors – gladly, all of them had signs indicating the classes and their numbers, like a market would. “It’s enough time for kids to arrive and have a little chat before their classes.”

They turned a right, and some people were on a line, waiting for the elevator. Principal Himura walked past them to the first student waiting, and smiled kindly, the kids greeting him and giving him space.

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to jump the line. Can I?” he asked, and two girls nodded, giggling. He turned to Remus as the doors opened, both entered it, and Himura pressed the number 3 button to the third floor.

As they exited the elevator, the corridor was just as filled with as many people as the ground one, and the decoration was a little different – the lockers were in a bright blue, some flags hanged around the walls, posters of universities of other countries and Drama and Music clubs, some graffiti (not dicks) – everything was so different he couldn’t avoid but widening his eyes, imagining how would be like studying in a place like that.

“This is the cultural floor. Kids have the Geography, Politics, History, Music, Drama, Literature, Photography, Philosophy, Sociology, Arts, foreign languages classes, the school newspaper publisher, Debating, and the library.” Himura enumerated in a flat tone, as if he was talking about the weather, and Remus’ mouth fell open in shock with the number of classes and things they could learn.

“They have _all_ of these classes?” the surprise in his expression made Himura laugh.

“Oh, no, no! As they enter high school, they can choose some areas of interest, just as extracurricular activities, just having to stick with a minimum workload of English, Math and Social Studies, besides the Health classes from time to time. Beyond that, they can freely choose the subjects they are taking – here we encourage clubs and groups of studying.”

“Oh, right.” Remus said, bending down a little to avoid being hit in the face by a basketball. He looked at the boy who threw it and he muttered an excuse, smiling. The Principal stopped in front of a class with a sign indicating _History_ , in orange letters, and Remus felt like the realization of being employed and that he was about to teach his first class of his entire life finally hit him.

“So, this is your classroom until the end of the year. Students have to come here, you don’t need to leave.” Himura explained, and Remus gulped, taking a look inside. The class was big, beige green walls and light wood floor, a big blackboard on the front, as the door was at the end of the class, wide windows on the opposite side of the room, and more posters and flags on the walls. Some teenagers were already sat, chatting, and some girls looked at him and giggled while he observed, making him blush a little.

The second bell rang, and the rest of the people on the corridor started entering their respective classes, some passing between them. Remus looked down at the Principal, and the man smiled, encouraging him.

“Ready, Mr. Lupin?” Himura asked.

Remus thought it was an idiot question, since the only answer possible was “Yeah, let’s go.”

As they entered the class, an abrupt silence; everybody sat at their chairs, legs were taken off the desk tops, phones were put down and laughter ceased. Principal Himura had a gentle smile on his lips, and Remus took a deep breath discreetly, leaning against the blackboard with hands on his pockets.

“Good morning.” The Principal said.

“Good morning.” The class echoed. Remus raised his eyebrows at that – all that private school experience was going to be a thing to him.

“You probably know Mrs. Jenkins is unable to teach classes due a home accident.” He continued, and the class nodded. “And the fact that you missed two days of-“

As the Principal talked, Remus used the moment to take a look at the face of the students he was going to teach at least until May, thinking on how many names he would have to memorize, tests he would have to apply, exams, seminars, grades. He was going to make the same way every Monday and Thursday to get to school, going up three floors to get to that class, that probably would end being his second home, and face all those people, not only them but all four grades. He felt a little intimidated.

 _Was that what teachers thought, every day?_ He asked himself.

The classroom was divided randomly, so the previous groups he saw at first were mixed – and he knew if he took a closer roll he would see a sticker with the name of who sat at that desk - but inevitably the ones he could tell were jocks and stoners were seated from the middle to the end of the class, while most of the girls took the front rows.

“Anyway, I would like to introduce you your new History teacher, Remus Lupin. Could you please write your name, Mr. Lupin?” Himura turned at him, interrupting his thoughts, and Remus nodded quickly, turning around and getting a white chalk, writing _Remus Lupin_ at the blackboard. His hands were shaking and sweaty, wetting the chalk immediately, and he put it down, rubbing his fingers to get the tiny dust out to avoid dirtying his jeans. As Remus turned around, all eyes were at him, and that much attention made him blush a little.

“Mr. Lupin will be your teacher until the end of the school year. He is a very intelligent young man, with a brilliant school record and the desire to transmit as much knowledge as possible and help you to get good grades to college.” And then, a little more sternly, he added “I _know_ your grades weren’t that good on the previous year, and to be honest-“ he looked at Remus “all students Mrs. Jenkins taught were below B-.”

Remus widened his eyes a bit.

“So, I would like to ask you, Seniors, to welcome him with great respect, and to take the opportunity of being in an educational institution like this, with a competent faculty, who provide you with every opportunity to become good educated citizens.” The class nodded again, some people smiling, some rolling eyes (Remus guessed it was probably a common discourse). “Any questions?”

As no one said a thing, Himura looked again at Remus, smiling kindly, and he dodged the teacher’s table – _his_ table – being careful to not bump into it, and put his bag over it, smiling shyly at the boys and girls in front of him. He tried to remember how was the sensation of being sat in a desk, waiting for someone to say the right things.

“I’ll leave you by now. I’ll be back to do the same introduction later, Mr. Lupin.” He patted the guy on the shoulder, squeezing it a bit, and did a little reverence at the class, some people saying _bye_. “Have a nice Monday!”

“I hate Mondays.” He heard a masculine voice whisper, and some chuckles at the end of the room.

Himura exited the class, closing the door behind him, and Remus felt terrified.

He was on charge. Like, he was the authority in that moment, in a leadership position, and the mere thought of it concretizing made him feel old and weird, as the moment he thought would never happen was _actually_ happening.

 _How do I do this? What do I say?_ People looked up at him with expectation, still in complete silence. Some coughed, shifted on their seats.

“Huh… Well, good morning.” Remus started, stammering a bit and cleaning his throat after. The class greeted him again. A boy crossing his arms distracted him from his thoughts, and he cleaned his throat for the second time. “Hm, so. I’m Remus Lupin, you can call me Mr. Lupin, or Lupin, or even Remus, if you want, I don’t mind. I’m going to teach you History, and now that the Principal told me your grades aren’t that good, I fell a little under pressure.” He tried to make a joke, but not more than three people smiled.

It made him nervous, more than he was. They really looked like spoiled motherfuckers, as Sirius said.

Taking a folder from inside his bag, he tried not to shake or blush, but knew his neck and ears would probably be red by now – the disadvantage of having short hair after so long was the fact that people could actually see his face and ears.

“I’ll do the roll call, so I can begin trying to memorize your names.” Remus said, looking for a pen inside his bag pocket, but realizing he forgot. It made him feel like an ice bucket was falling over his head, and he turned at the class with an embarrassed smile. “Does anyone have a pen…?”

 _Stupid question, obviously they have pens, they’re at fucking school!_ He cursed mentally, as a girl with short brown hair and a blink-182 tshirt raised from her seat, a red pen on her hand extended to him.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, and she smiled back, sitting down. A girl behind her poked her ribs playfully and they both suppressed a giggle – Remus tried not to think about the amount of female-interaction he would have to get from that day on.

As he made the roll call, he looked up at every one, trying in vain associate the face with the name. There were two Marys, a boy named Charlie (that he could memorize because Charlie was his favorite member of the Stones), a foreign student named Bruna, and a boy named Romulus that smiled and answered the call with _greetings from Rome_ , which had some effect and made more people laugh.

That actually dissipated the heavy atmosphere of the class, and as he put the roll call down, he tried to think about them all being like friends (not that much, due the professional relationship Nancy made him promise about), to try make things a little easier.

He knew that it would get better every day – he needed practice to get comfortable with being at the front of the class. Remus remembered how one of his professors on college told him that even Aristoteles started from nowhere, and smiled at his students, leaning against the table and putting his hands on his pockets.

“Well… yeah. Principal Himura gave me a general aspect of what Mrs. Jenkins was teaching, but it’s always good to know from _you_.” Remus said, taking the World History books from his bag, volume I and II. “Is there… any class representatives?”

It was just a guess - he remembered seeing it in a high school movie – but a girl indeed raised her hand, getting up from her seat next to the window. She had long auburn hair and dark eyes, freckles on her face, a snobbish expression.

“I’m the class representative, Professor.” Remus tried really, _really_ hard not to snort at the formal tone. Some people rolled their eyes, so he guessed he wasn’t the one finding that weird. “Annie White.”

“Hey. So, what was Mrs. Jenkins teaching you?” Remus asked, looking down at both books.

“Professor Jenkins was lecturing the class about Europe and global interactions.” Annie said, sitting down again, and he frowned, taking a look at the book index – there was nothing such as Europe and global interactions.

Trying not to sound idiot or anything, he laughed a little uncomfortably, “Ah, so, could you be a little more… specific? Like, the chapter on the book… and which one?”

“Book II, she was finishing the Middle Age. Western Roman Empire fall, something like that.” A blonde boy at the middle of the class spoke, and Remus smiled, finding the pages and getting a little relieved.

“Okay. So. Open your books in page thirty-eight, I’ll start reading and then… Huh…” Remus frowned, trying to relax. A thing he didn’t learn during the preparatory courses he took during college was how hard it actually was to lecture, in front of such judgmental faces. “Then, I’ll… we’ll see how things go.”

He did the exact same thing with all the four classes: the most difficult one was the Sophomores, that apparently didn’t respect any authority, since even Principal Himura had some difficulty in talking to them. Remus liked especially the Freshmans, who all looked avid to learn something. A boy with dark long hair, who reminded him of a young Sirius, but with green eyes, said he “was very happy that they finally had a teacher who didn’t look like a thousand years old”, making Remus laugh for the first time during all morning.

He was feeling quite proud of himself, walking thought the corridors to go home after his first day of teaching, a warm feeling on his chest, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt a positive feeling about himself – it was nice, and he had to fight the smile that crept his lips, fearing someone would think he was weird.

Remus thanked the Principal one last time, tried not to smile that much at Lucy, and went to the bathroom before effectively going home, since the subway ride was a little long, and was shocked when entered one next to the front hall of Ilvermorny.

Light green and light blue tiles decorated the walls, while the ceiling was all white, and the floor had dark blue tiles; the sinks looked like the ones in a shopping center, with a thing to press to get the soap and the push down taps, with white paper to dry hands with. It had a rich vibe, just like the entire place, smelling a lot like flowers or any kind of parfum, and he couldn’t avoid thinking of Hogwarts one more time, with its dirty tiles, walls with peeling paint, the ceiling with moisture stains and again, all the dicks on the doors of the cabinets and the broken mirrors.

He entered one of the cabinets just to make sure that there weren’t any phallic drawings, and smiled when spotted that even being in a richies school, they still wrote and drew dicks on doors. Boys will be boys no matter were.

Remus was startled when someone entered the bathroom, interrupting his thoughts, and immediately closed the cabinet door, cursing himself. He could listen conversation, like maybe three or four boys, and he bent down a little so his face wasn’t visible over the door – being almost 6 feet 2, he was really tall - and sat over the toilet cover, waiting for the teenagers to go away.

His phone vibrated just as the boys talked about the soccer league – Sirius and Peter texted him.

 **Pete :** _(11:50) Heyy professor hows ur day going? Any detentions??_

 **Padfoot : ** _(11:51) nah moony isn’t the detention type_

_(11:51) he’ll try to talk with the little prick so they understand that punishing on the basis of fear is wrong yadda yadda_

_(11:52) anyways i’m curious how was it? i bet you did fine_

_(11:52) is there hot teachers? students?_

Remus chuckled quietly at that, and typed an answer.

_(11:53) I think I did pretty well for the first day_

_(11:54) I’m going home, ttyl_

Before he locked the screen, another Sirius’ text popped up.

 ** Padfoot: ** _(11:54) yeah come home i’m starving_

Remus smiled again, rolling his eyes, and payed attention of what the boys were talking, so he could sneak out of the cabin and pee like a normal guy. They were still saying something about videogames, and when a boy complained that the Weekend League was certainly going to kill him due the stress, Remus couldn’t avoid but nod, understanding.

He paid a lot more attention when another one asked, turning the tap on. “What did you guys think of that new teacher?”

“Dunno, I mean, we only had one class with him.” Another guy answered. Remus tried to see them through the crack in the cabin door, and could only distinguish two of the four boys – one of them was the blonde that told him where Mrs. Jenkins stopped. “He does seem a little lost.”

“He has a funny face. Full of scars, that shit’s crazy.” The other one Remus could watch spoke, a tall strong boy with dark hair using jerseys, and remembered him sitting on the end of the class. “I bet he can’t stand being in front of people because he was punched on school.” The boys laughed. “I mean, don’t you think? I could punch him in the face if he was in our class, make another scar.”

“Yeah, mate, totally.” Another one spoke, and the blonde boy shook his head.

“I thought you stopped thinking about punching people since the suspension.”

“C’mon, Andy, don’t change the subject.” The fourth boy said. “Did you like him?”

The blonde boy, Andy, shrugged. “Y’know I hate History. Everyone hates History. I head the girls saying they only liked the class because he was ‘hot’” and the other boys laughed at that “and I hate to say to agree with Ethan, but he really looks a little dumb.”

“Hot? I bet he’s a fucking virgin – for real, who the fuck choses teaching as a profession? Like, you must be such a loser to even think about it.”

“White said she thinks he’s ‘terribly unprepared’.” The other boy he couldn’t see spoke.

“I hate that bitch, but I have to agree – I mean, do you noticed how much he stuttered? Like he couldn’t even read at all!”

Remus heard as the boys laughed, not daring to make a sound.

“Leah said he bumped on his table and almost fell.” The second guy spoke. Remus felt his cheeks getting warm – he almost forgot that moment, during the Juniors class.

“See? A fucking loser.” Ethan laughed again, and Andy smirked.

“Yeah. But I guess there’s no way he’s worst than Jenkins.” The first boy said.

“I just wish they put a hot milf like the President of Parents Committee. Imagined those tits bouncing while she says some shit about the Cold War?”

“No man, no way, we’ll have to handle the nerd until graduation.” Ethan mocked, and the boys left the bathroom laughing.

When he was sure that no one was in the bathroom, Remus opened the cabinet slowly, looking at his reflection on the mirror. He was indeed red, contrasting to his pale skin, and released a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

He felt _horrible_. Embarrassed. Humiliated. He thought he did well! He didn’t notice any faces from the students, any complains, and some of them greeted them as the classes ended. Principal Himura said he was happy to have him on the school faculty, more than once, and he was surprised at how nice some of the students where.

But clearly, not all of them. He couldn’t avoid but think of how Sirius talked about his brother – snobbish motherfuckers.

He peed, whishing that no one entered the bathroom again, and washed his hands. His head felt heavy with shame, and suddenly he felt like an eleven-year-old again, sitting alone on a bench, kids mocking him because of his height and for being so thin and pale, for his shyness.

If people talked like that about Sirius, he surely would open the cabinet to surprise them, maybe speak something to make them shit their pants. James would look at them with such contempt that they would melt. Peter would probably be likeable, since he made such good jokes and had a friendly face.

Looking at himself, his eyes stopped at the dark circles and, inevitably, at the scars on his cheekbones and neck, not to mention the ones that covered his body. Remus closed his eyes, tried not to think about the car accident that gave them to him on his early-teenage years, a thing that brought so much insecurity he hated even taking photos of himself, but it was in vain.

There was a motive why Remus hated using short sleeves, or shorts, and suddenly he remembered why he had long hair for such a long time – it was a way to hide his face, and all of the scars on it.

And he knew. He knew people would comment, or at least think about it but not saying anything. In Hogwarts, some guys made fun of him because of it, but James and Sirius would always defend him.

Now, he was twenty-two, and no one were going to punch high schoolers if they said he was ugly, or weird.

His hands trembled as he put them on his face, covering his eyes. He wanted to quit. Immediately. Return to behind that counter, selling instruments, or not even leave home anymore.

_How could I think it was going to work?_

And he knew exactly that he was about to have an anxiety attack – those awful moments accompanied him for years – hands trembling, the sweat, his heart beating wildly on his ribcage, sweat starting to appear on his forehead.

Remus exited the school as fast as he could, looking down and not wanting anyone to notice him – what was a successful thing, because no student seemed to bother a young man practically running by the corridors through the gates.

As he finally sat on the subway, on his way home, he picked his phone again, wanting to listen to some music or watch some videos to calm himself down – he knew he was on the verge of a breakdown. There were another texts from Sirius, Peter and, this time, James, that one being the most recent and the one that could be read on the notification bar.

 ** James: ** _(12:27) I won’t even ask because I know you totally rocked, Moony_

_(12:27) Proud of you, mate_

Remus let a shaky breath, leaning his head against the window glass, with a lump on his throat.

***

**end of Chapter 2**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! so, I’m sorry this second chapter took so long – the end of 2020 was busy for me, and now I’m studying to a major exam I’ll do at march, that will kinda decide my professional future, as so to speak, I’m having a little trouble studying and trying to find time to the other things (there are so many animes I still need to watch, god) because sometimes I get soooo mentally tired, it's quite a challenge (but that's ok, it will be worth it)
> 
> hope you like this chapter! I found it really nice to write – tried to show a little more of their interactions, not as much as with each other, and without a big time skip, but with their work places, so some things would be explained. in the next chapters the fun will begin! there’s a lot of new characters I need to introduce, and some of the beginning of the plots.
> 
> see you next time! thanks for reading and for all the kudos and commentaries!


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